


Children Of Yesterday

by edgeofthegalaxy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Because lets be real these kids are messed up, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Bruce Banner, Kid Bucky Barnes, Kid Clint Barton, Kid Fic, Kid Natasha Romanov, Kid Sam Wilson, Kid Steve Rogers, Panic Attack, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Team Bonding, Team as Family, dont worry i promise kid nat wont get pushed to the side like the she does in some others, will add more tags as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:00:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgeofthegalaxy/pseuds/edgeofthegalaxy
Summary: Standing in front of him, are two more children, only slightly older than the one he had found. The blonde child was freakishly skinny with dark bags under his eyes, and was standing with another black-haired slightly taller child who had a bony arm wrapped around him.The blonde was wearing an over-sized Captain America costume that drowned him, and the other only wearing a leather jacket with sleeves that covered his hands and fell to his knees.Tony almost chokes.The blonde in the Captain America costume. The black-haired child standing over him. The scared, timid kid on his hip with glasses and bruises.He knows who these kids are..After an accident with Hydra and the time stone, Tony and Rhodey are left with six of their teammates turned into young children. Trying to keep the six young, traumatized and rambunctious children safe all while finding a cure and attempting to give them a taste of a real childhood might be their biggest mission yet.
Relationships: Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Comments: 187
Kudos: 351





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone! 
> 
> I really wanted to write a story examining how the avengers were as children, especially since some of them had such interesting lives at that time, and also how they would all interact with each other as kids. So here we are! 
> 
> Thank you so much to @quietlyimplode.tumblr for talking through ideas with me and beta reading!

Tony blinks.

“Strange? As in, Stephen Strange?” He raises his eyebrow, disbelief filtering in his voice. “You’re telling me, the Sorcerer Supreme, couldn’t fight off a few Hydra goons?”

Nick sighs, a displeased frown on his face as he elaborates as if talking to children, “We don’t know what happened and we won’t know until we can actually locate Strange. But, for now, yes. We believe Hydra is in possession of the time stone based on energy signals we’re picking up in Italy.”

Steve cuts in. "So, what? you want us to go get it back?"

"That's exactly what you are going to do. This stone, we don't know much of what it can do. But we do know Hydra having this kind of power could be catastrophic.”

The team meets each other’s eyes for a split second, deciding if this was something they really wanted to do. Exhaustion from their last mission was still weighing heavily on them. Technically, they should all be on leave, a break well earned, not preparing for another mission.

“Guess we better let Thor know we’ve got another mission coming.”

“Actually, Thor is currently occupied. There is a situation in Asgard that requires his presence. We will continue to try and get in touch with him but, this simply cannot wait. I’m sure you all will be capable to perform one mission without him?” Nick raises his eyebrow, the question obvious and taunting.

A huff of air expels from Tony’s mouth, as he takes the bait. “Of course we can. I just about stabilized the damn middle east by myself.” He retorts as he takes another sip from his almost empty glass.

Rhodey eyes the glass warily.

Nick nods, and ends the meeting. Tells them the obvious, to get ready; and promptly hangs up the hologram call.

Steve stands, and nods at the team. “Alright, well. See you guys on the quinjet in twenty, then.”

* * *

“Tony.”

The engineer turns to face her, taking in her disapproving expression. He doesn’t feel like doing this with her again.

“I have to go, Pep.”

“You’re in no shape to be going on missions right now…” She takes a step forward. “It’s okay to take a break.”

“I don’t need a break. I _need_ distractions. I need to not think.”

“You’re getting bad again.” The question, implicit in her statement.

“I’m not.”

“Tony…Ever since Peter got hurt last month you’ve been drinking so mu—”

“Stop.” The warning is clear, but giving up isn’t in her nature. Pepper doesn’t stop.

“But he’s okay now.”

“I don’t care that he’s okay _now_. Don’t you understand? He got hurt _because of me_. Me.”

“He got hurt because he wasn’t listening to directions,” Pepper chastises gently.

Tony doesn’t bother to respond. He turns back to his suit, adding some last minute tweaks to it, a product of his most recent overnighter. On his desk, his phone rings with another unanswered call.

* * *

“Okay,” Steve retightens the strap on his helmet, coming to stand with his teammates, giving them a nod. “The base doesn’t look big, but we still need to be careful. Widow—” He looks at Natasha, who steels her expression. He hands her a metal box, small enough to fit into her palm and plain enough no one who didn’t know would give it a second glance. “You go in, find the stone, put it here. Out of any of us, You’re probably best suited to sneak past everyone unnoticed. Clint, Keep her covered. Me, Stark, Bucky, and Rhodes will handle them and take them out on the ground. Sam, you in the air. Sound good?”

Agreeing silently, the team making minute changes to their suits and amour. “He isn’t the only one that can fly, ya’ know…” Tony grumbles. Steve chooses to ignore him.

As the group starts to disperse, Steve catches Bucky’s shoulder. “Buck, I want you to stay close to me out there, okay?”

Bucky sighs slightly at his best friend. He was still getting used to this side of him, this new dynamic between them. With him being the weak one now. “Steve. I’ll be fine.”

“I know, I know you will. But please. It will make me feel better.”

“Yeah,” He agrees, seeing the worry etched onto his best friend’s face. “Okay.”

* * *

It’s Bucky who notices it first.

They’ve been fighting all of ten minutes, Natasha half-way through the compound. The fight is unusually easy for Hydra. Something is off. 

“Uh…hey guys? I think some of them are taking cyanide pills. These guys just fucking dropped dead before I even touched them.”

“I haven’t seen anyone take anything?” Sam.

“You wouldn’t. We- _they_ have a fake tooth that carries it. Makes it quicker.”

“What? Are they that scared of us?” Tony asks as he shots another beam from his palm, taking out five men at once.

“No. Not scared. Planning something.” Steve joins in. “Widow, how’s it coming?”

Natasha doesn’t respond, instead Clint’s voice crackles through the earpieces.

“We’re good. We’ve narrowed down where they’re keeping the stone and are almost there.”

“You guys wanna hurry that up? I don’t like the thought they might be up to something else. Bucky is right- these guys are dropping way too quickly.” Rhodey covers Steve and Bucky as he talks, urgency in his tone.

Tony hums. “You really think they’re going to d—” He’s cut off as something slams into his body, knocking him through the air. Around him, the world is orange and red with sudden flames.

* * *

“--ny? Tony? You gotta wake up man, I could really use some help here.”

Tony forces his eyes open at the voice ringing in his ears. Rhodey, he recognizes.

“Rhodes? Are you… crying?” He asks, stunned at the small sniffling he can hear over the communication line.

“No, Tony.” Rhodey sighs, exasperated. “But I can’t find the team.”

“What the hell happened?”

“They had the place rigged full of explosives. Offed themselves before. We’re in metal suits but the rest of the team…”

Tony doesn’t respond, instead pops his face shield open to look around himself better. Without the shield, he could hear the crying more clearly now. He glances around, narrowing in on a small figure several yards away. A child. What the fuck.

“Hey, kid,” He calls out. The black-haired child sniffles, rubs some dirt away from his face and turns his head in Tony’s direction. Tony forces himself to stand, limping over towards him. He picks up a small pair of cracked glasses and holds them out. The kid takes them, offering him a watery smile as he shoves them back onto his face. “What’re you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” Huh. Helpful.

“Are you hurt?” The child’s lip begins to wobble once more, and Tony groans internally. Before he can say anything to comfort the child more, Rhodey’s voice calls him again through his helmet, this time more urgently. “Okay, okay, I’m coming.” He mutters out.

“Alright, kiddo. I can’t exactly leave you here. So, c’mon, I guess.” Tony reaches out towards him, pausing slightly when the kid’s eyes grow wide and he flinches back. But he doesn’t protest, so Tony continues, grabbing the child under his arms and hiking him up onto his hip. It’s only then that Tony notices the child is naked except for a large pair of oversized boxers hanging off his hips.

He’ll figure that out later.

Tony carries the kid over to where to Rhodey is kneeling on the ground, his back facing him. “Rhodey! Look what I found!” he yells out to announce his presence, kicking himself slightly when the child on his hip flinches again. Rhodey whirls around, eyes wild but body slightly letting up when he sees the kid Tony is holding.

“Oh, thank god.” He breathes. Tony raises an eyebrow and closes the distance, craning his neck to see what Rhodey was kneeling over.

Standing in front of him, are two more children, only slightly older than the one he had found. The blonde child was freakishly skinny with bags under his eyes and another black-haired slightly taller child had a bony arm wrapped around him.

The blonde was wearing an oversized Captain America costume that drowned him, and the other only wearing a leather jacket with sleeves that covered his hands and fell to his knees.

Tony almost chokes.

The blonde in the Captain America costume. The black-haired child standing over him. The scared, timid kid on his hip with glasses and bruises.

He knows who these kids are.

“Oh, god.” His breathing catches in his throat as his stomach drops. “What the- What—"

Rhodey glances up at him. “Tony. You gotta breathe. Now is not the time to freak out. Focus, man.”

He closes his eyes, wills his lungs to work properly.

“Okay. Okay- what. What do we need to do?” He asks.

“I’ve already called emergency evac in. But I have no fucking idea where the rest of the team is.”

“Fri? Can you pick up the rest of them?”

Friday takes several seconds to scan the area before responding. “I cannot identify the team. However, I am picking up three more children. The closest one is approaching from your right.”

Tony whips around to find another young boy, stumbling his way over to the adults. He is wiping at his face, trying to clear the dust covering his skin.

“Sam?”

Sam jerks his head up, surprised by the unfamiliar adults already knowing his name, but nods eagerly.

“That’s me!” He waves a hand. “Are you here to help me? I don’t know what happened…”

Tony nods. “Yeah, yeah we’re to help. We’ll explain it later, okay? We need to find some other kids first though. Are you okay?”

Sam looks down at his body, wiggles his legs as he takes stock, and then nods.

* * *

They find Clint on top of a half-fallen shelf. It’s leaning dangerously to the side, which really doesn’t help Tony’s anxiety. He has curled into himself, high above the piles of rubble. "Clint!" Tony calls up to him. he sees the child curl tighter in on himself, his eyes narrowing.

Kids, Tony. He has to remind himself. You’re talking to kids.

He softens his voice. "Hey, Bud. I know you're probably pretty scared and confused right now, huh? It looks like your arm is a bit hurt, why don't you come down from there and we can help you." Clint glances back towards where Rhodey is standing with the other kids.

"Where's Barney?"

Tony probably should have expected that one. He doesn't want to lie to the kid. Really, he doesn’t.

"We'll help you find him, kid." Whoops.

"Are you from the government?"

"No, no government here. Just us.” He gestures towards the others. “We helped those other kids too, see?” 

Clint continues to frown at him, but he uncurls from his ball, carefully putting one foot down on a piece of wood under his body as he begins to lower himself down. Tony waits with outstretched arms and nods back at Rhodey.

"Well, there we go. Five down. Just need to find Natasha and-"

A gunshot rings out through the air. Without thinking, Tony rips Clint from where he’s almost to the last shelf, and curls around him protectively. Rhodey drops low, arms pulling all the children down with him to the ground. "Fuck, Fuck. FUCK," Tony mutters as his suit closes back around his body. "Rhodey? Keep them covered!" he yells and shoos Clint over to them. Friday is quick to alert him to a small heat signature- Natasha, crouched behind a fallen piece of the ceiling.

"Natasha? We’re here to help you.”

“Natas-uh, wait. _Natalia_ ,” He corrects himself. "Stop shooting" He moves towards the crouched figure. She shoots him again, landing a shot squarely on his heart. If it weren't for the Ironman suit, he'd be dead. It doesn't deter him, and he advances in, cornering the small girl in the piles of rubble. Her eyes grow wide as she takes him in, narrowing in on the place her bullet had effortlessly bounced off. She mumbles something in Russian.

"We’re not going to hurt you. But you need to stop.”

She calls out to him, something in Russian. _Who are you?_ Friday translates in his ear. Natasha’s voice is strong, but he can hear the faint tremor she is hiding behind her Russian accent.

Against Friday’s advice, he opens his faceplate, allowing her to see his face as he speaks to her. “My name is Tony. I’m one of the good guys, yeah?”

Friday encases him in his suit before he can even realize she has fired another shot at him, this time at his face.

“Russian, Tony. She’s _Russian._ Why would the good guys be speaking English?” Rhodey mutters in between curses as he attempts to herd the other five children out of the crumbling building. From the sounds of it, it’s not going great. One of the kids- Steve, maybe- is arguing with him, telling him he wants to stay and help the robot man. Two other voices are then arguing with Steve, while one sniffling voice is asking if those are real gunshots. “SHIELD is about a minute out. You might just have to grab her.”

“Are you insane? I’m not going to grab her. Does she even speak English?”

“Tones, it will be a lot worse if SHIELD gets here while she’s still freaked. They’ll only scare her more and she’ll injure or probably kill someone.”

Tony frowns at the redhead in front of him. He crouches down, keeping his distance. “Okay, kid, listen. There’s about to be a lot more people here, with guns and they might not be as nice as me. So, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can walk out with me or I’ll carry you out. You choose.” He doesn’t know exactly how much of the English she can understand, but between his words and hand gestures, it seems she’s gotten the point. Her eyes only narrow more, and her frown grows, but she lowers the gun. He nods encouragingly at her, waving his hand to gesture her over. Still holding onto the gun, she crosses her arms over her chest and takes several steps towards him, somehow managing to not trip over the rubble even though she doesn’t take her eyes off him for a second. 

She follows Tony outside, where the SHIELD jet is just landing, SHIELD agents unloading with Fury leading the way. As Fury draws closer, he visibly pauses when he catches sight of the children. He pauses for a moment, then slowly lifts his eye patch, as if he doesn’t trust his only good eye to be seeing correctly.

“Is anyone going to explain what the fuck I’m looking at?”

“Uh,” Rhodey says, “They blew up the time stone and…” At the same time, Tony makes a joke about introducing the “Minivengers.”

Fury ignores Tony. He looks at the kids, spending a few seconds on each one as he identifies and assess them. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Well, get them onto the jet, then. Let’s them get home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for anything mistakes hiding in there.  
> Sorry if my writing seems rushed or hurried sometimes as well. It will get better in the next chapters!
> 
> Also, in case it wasn't clear- Tony and Rhodey were unaffected by the explosion because their bodies are completely protected by the iron suites. The rest of the team are much more vulnerable than they are.  
> Sorry for anyone missing Thor- He'll show up later in the story! But I didn't want to have too many kids running around and not be able to keep track of them all.
> 
> Feel free to come visit or talk to me at https://natasha-romanoff-deserved-better.tumblr.com  
> Kudos and comments are always greatly appreciated! They help me write faster! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Y'all! Thank you so much for all the kind comments and encouragement! It really helps motivate me to write knowing that people are enjoying it. 
> 
> Thanks to @quietlyimplode for beta reading and helping me figure out some scenes! 
> 
> Tiny trigger warning: Panic attack caused by medical equipment towards the end.

“What kind of name is _Clint?”_ Bucky says with a wrinkled nose.

“A better one than Bucky, that’s for sure.” Clint responds stubbornly.

“What’s wrong with the name Bucky?” Steve chimes in, looking between the two.

Tony and Rhodey had placed them all together in the back of the jet, ushering them into two rows of seats facing each other and instructing them to “play nice” before walking away to continue talking with Fury and leaving them to their own devices.

“I like your names,” says Sam, with a grin.

They’d all been shoved into extra SHIELD wind breaker jackets, since there had been no children’s clothes on board. Bruce quietly sits in his seat watching the exchange between the other boys as he fiddles with the sleeves on his jacket. Next to him; Natasha, her arms still crossed, eyes narrowed. Her gun had been confiscated by Fury, much to her annoyance. She listens for about two minutes before rolling her eyes, slipping out of her seat and stomping off.

Fury and Tony stand towards the front of the jet, quietly arguing where the kids hopefully can’t hear them. Tony looks into Fury’s calm face.

“You can’t be serious.” He deadpans.

“I’m always serious.”

Tony runs a hand over his face. “You really think a hospital is a good idea? A hospital. For these kids.”

“Stark, they need medical observation. We don’t know if Bruce still has Hulk abilities, or anything about how Steve’s serum might be affecting him and even if not at all, he was an extremely sick kid. Natasha was a trained killer as a child and will probably need constant twenty-four seven supervision. We also have no idea how this type of transition will affect their bodies or if—”

“A hospital is not a place where children should be staying, not to mention several of them are probably terrified of them.”

“I don’t care what _should_ be happening. I care what is safest for them. This is not a normal situation, and these are not normal children…”

“Can’t you just find some SHIELD agents to take care of them for a bit? There must be some agents that like kids.”

Fury cocks his head. “Do _you_ want to do it?”

Tony blanches. “I-what? No. I hate kids. I- I’m awful with them.”

“Then they’re staying in the hospital until we either find Strange or someone else who can piece the time stone back together and get them back to their regular selves. End of discussion.”

Fury doesn’t wait for a response from him, just turns and heads into the pilot cockpit, effectively cutting off the argument. Tony just sighs exasperatedly as he plops down into a chair in front of Rhodey.

Rhodey closes the laptop he was typing on, and fixes his eyes on Tony, who is opening the mini fridge and pouring himself a double shot.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“Fury wants them to stay in a hosp—”

“No, no. I heard Fury. I meant you. You don’t hate kids, you never have.”

“I’m just not good with them, okay?”

Rhodey raises an eyebrow. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re great with Peter—"

“Peter is a weird kid--”

“—and that one other kid from a while ago. Harley?”

Tony rubs a hand over his face. “Listen, Rhodes. May trusted me to take care of Peter and you saw what happened to him last time. I shouldn’t even be allowed near the team right now.”

“Tony. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, we have. And it doesn’t change anything that happened.”

“You can’t keep ignoring Peter’s calls forever, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. I just—”

“Hey!” Steve is suddenly standing before them, the rest of the group standing slightly gathered behind him and Bucky. “You still haven’t told us what the heck is going on, Mr.!”

“Oh god.” Tony rubs another hand over his face again, trying to rack his brain as he buys himself a few seconds more to think. They hadn’t yet gone over what exactly they wanted to tell the kids, and quite frankly Tony wasn’t sure if telling them they were superheroes who accidentally got turned into seven year old children by a magical rock would be the best idea.

“Um.” He sneaks a glance at Rhodey, who looks just as lost as him. “Well…”

“We’re here to help you all.” Rhodey says, making slight eye contact with Tony to motion to go along with it.

“Yes!” Tony agrees. “We’re here to help you. We’re going to take you all somewhere safe with people who can protect you.”

“Protect us from who? I miss my dad.” Sam says, bottom lip poking out.

“Yeah! My ma will be worried.” Bucky agrees.

“You all remember the building you woke up in?”

“The ruined one?” Bruce asks.

“Yup, that one. Some bad guys blew it up, and we want to make sure those bad guys can’t get to any of you.”

“There’s bad guys after us?”

“Are my parents okay?”

“What’d they blow it up with?”

“Okay, okay, whoa. One question at a time. You don’t need to worry about the bad guys anymore, okay? You’re all safe now. And yes, everyone is okay. And Bruce, I’m not sure. Dynamite, or something like that.”

The mention of dynamite seems to occupy the kids minds then, confusion forgotten as Sam launches into a story about a cartoon he’d recently seen where they used dynamite to knock over a mountain.

Tony searches for the red hair, which he finds standing at the very back of group, as if she hadn’t wanted them to know she had joined. “Do you understand, Natalia? That we’re here to help you?”

Natasha gives him no response, makes no move to indicate she understood the conversation or even understood the question he was asking her. Instead she simply stares for several seconds before going back to her seat to continue watching out the jet’s window.

Tony turns to Rhodey, a grimace on his face. “I can try to make her some instant translation earpieces when I get to the workshop.” 

* * *

“Well, this is going to go just amazing.” Tony grumbles to Rhodey as they lead the group of kids through the doors of SHIELD's medical wing.

“We’ll handle it.” Rhodey responds calmly, keeping his eyes on Clint and Natasha, who have both slowed down their steps significantly after entering the building and realizing they were in a hospital.

Clint whips around the face the two adults. “Why are we here?!” He demands, stomping a tiny foot. He points at Tony. “You promised you weren’t from the government!”

“We’re not. We just need to make sure you’re all okay and—”

“You lied!”

“He lied?” Steve’s expression turns sour.

“No, no I didn’t lie. Clint, look at me. Your arm is hurt, right? They’re going to fix it. No one is going to get into any trouble or anything, okay?”

Tony can tell by his face that Clint doesn’t totally believe him, but he doesn’t yell anymore, so Tony counts that as a win.

Sam picks up on his unease and moves over from his spot next to Steve to stand by Clint. “Doctors are good. They help you feel better.”

“They’re gunna get my dad in trouble.”

Sam blinks. “Why would they do that?”

“Clint.” Rhodey cuts in, before Clint could say anything more to Sam about his father. “Like Tony said. No one is getting in trouble. I promise.”

“Yeah! I’ve stayed in a hospital once! They give you free food!” It’s Steve. Of course. Bruce’s interest piques at the mention of free food, hunger stronger than the fear.

Clint considers this for a second, then mumbles out an annoyed _fine_ as he wraps his arms protectively around his stomach.

“Fury called ahead and notified them of what happened,” Rhodey whispers to Tony. “But how do you want to do this? I don’t think letting any of them go off by themselves is a good idea.”

“Divide and conquer?”

Rhodey nods. “How about you take Clint, Nat, and Bruce and I’ll handle Sam and the duo?”

“What? How come you get the easy ones and I have the hard ones?”

“Were you or were you not, the one who got Clint and Nat both to come out of hiding and also found Bruce?”

“Yes, but—”

“Tony. Stop doubting yourself.” Rhodey doesn’t give him any more time to argue with him. He places his hands on Sam’s and Bucky’s shoulders and steers them over to where a doctor is waiting, Steve following Bucky as the doctor smiles at the kids.

* * *

Getting Clint and Bruce through the medical tests ended up not be as hard as Tony had feared. The knowledge of their childhoods had made him worried they would be resistant to any medical treatment or doctors. Turns out, Bruce didn’t care too much at all. He went along with the tests and exams as long as he got to ask questions to the doctors- what they were doing, how that machine works, what does that thing on the wall do, can he see the blood they just took? The doctor seemed slightly overwhelmed at all the curious questions, but played along and tried to answer them in the most child friendly way he could. Bruce then demanded to know the _real_ words, not the watered-down child version.

Clint had been harder, but not too bad. He wasn’t happy about the tests, staring at the doctors and at Tony with a frown, and refusing to answer some questions ( _how’d you get that bruise?_ ), but he let the doctors do what they needed to do with minimal complaints.

And then they get to Natasha.

Tony had thought letting Natasha go last would help. That maybe, if she was able to see exactly what the doctors were going to do, watch Bruce and Clint go through them without being harmed, then she would be calmer when it was her turn.

It starts out okay- Tony is pleasantly surprised by how easily she goes along with the doctor’s orders. He had expected an all-out battle – adult Natasha refused go to medical unless she was knocking on death’s door, and even then, it could still be a struggle for the team to convince her.

But she stays quiet, lets the doctor check her over for injuries, allows the nurses to draw blood and test her reflexes.

It isn’t until they try to get an X-ray that things go to shit.

Tony notices her hesitation as soon as they walk into the room. She hadn’t been allowed to accompany Clint or Bruce to their X-rays, so the room is completely new to her. Her eyes widen as she takes in the towering machines.

“Mr. Stark, if you could collect her jacket? The metal zipper is not allowed.” The X-ray technician orders. Jackie, Tony notices.

“Oh, right, yeah. Hey Nat? We need to take this off, now, okay?” Natasha looks up at him, her frown deepening. She doesn’t move though, so Tony takes initiative and pushes one of the shoulders down her arm. She makes a small noise of protest, and he apologizes to her quickly before continuing. It’s clear she is upset, but she allows him to take her jacket, leaving her in only the oversized black tank they’d originally found her in.

“Okay, Natalia. If you could just hop up here for me and lay down.” Jackie gestures and pats the small X-ray bed. Natasha goes willingly, but he can see her breath slightly sped up as she lays back. Jackie lays the dense led blanket over her torso and Natasha freezes.

Her little body goes taunt as her breath hitches in panic. By her sides, her hands curl into fists as they begin to shake.

“Shit. Uh, hey Doc, maybe we shouldn’t—” Tony is cut off as Natasha starts whimpering, moisture leaking from the sides of her eyes.

“Neit,” She shakes her head as she starts to cry harder. “Neit!”

Tony doesn’t wait for Jackie. He shoves the blanket off Natasha’s body and onto the floor. “Nat! Nat, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He rushes to comfort. If Natasha understands him, she doesn’t show it. She sits up but continues shaking her head and brings her fisted hands to cover her ears and closes her eyes. She draws her knees up to her chest and curls in on herself.

Jackie rushes back over, softly repeating comforting words. She looks up at Tony, bewildered.

“Does she have a history of trauma?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, she does. But I didn’t think this would—”

“Sometimes people can have a hard time with the led blanket. It can closely resemble being held down.”

“Oh, god.” Tony breathes out as he takes in the implications of her words.

Natasha is on the verge of hyperventilating, so Tony places a gentle hand on her shoulder. She startles and flinches away, but it gets her attention back on him. “Natalia. Look at me. You’re _safe,_ okay? Safe. Nothing’s going to happen to you, but you need to breathe for me.”

Tony begins exaggerating his own breathing, in through his nose and exhaling loudly from his mouth. She’s confused at first but gets the point, and starts trying to mimic his breathing. “There you go. Good job, Nat.” She lights up at his praising tone.

Jackie smiles sadly at them. “Why don’t we skip the X-rays for today. If she shows any problems or more bruising later, we can try again. But it seems she might be done for today.”

Tony agrees and helps Natasha back into her wind breaker. Jackie is kind enough to supply Natasha with a pair of child’s leggings from the hospital’s lost and found. The other children have been supplied clothes also, she lets him know as they walk back down the hall.

Rhodey is waiting for them, having finished with Steve, Bucky and Sam and collected Clint and Bruce. Fury is standing off to the side, watching Bucky and Sam argue over something with an unimpressed expression. Next to him, stands the main doctor of the medical wing, several folders in his arms.

“How’d it go with them?” Tony asks Rhodey.

Rhodey shrugs. “They were all good, no problems. Steve has quite the medical history, though.”

At that, the doctor jumps in to explain further, going over all their findings. Steve was the worst off- with anemia, heart palpations, sinusitis, asthma, indigestion, and slight scoliosis. Tony whispers a _Jesus Christ_ under his breath as the doctor continues. Steve, Bucky, and Bruce all show signs of malnutrition. Bruce’s X-rays showed previous and wrongly healed fractures in several bones. Clint has several bruised bones, and a tweaked shoulder. Natasha seems okay for the most part, despite the scars and bruising littering her skin. Overall, Sam is the healthiest of them all, with only scrapes on his knees and elbows in which he was quick to tell the doctor about his fall from a tree.

By the time the doctor is finished with everything, Tony is struggling to keep up and remember everything. Rhodey is taking it all with a calm face, nodding along.

“Alright. Thank you, Dr. Daniels.” Fury nods to him. He turns to Tony and Rhodey. “Shall we show them to their rooms for the night?”

They nod, feeling the exhaustion start to seep into their bones as the adrenaline ebbs away. Fury leads them down more hallways, towards the private hospital rooms. An agent is waiting for them, who introduces himself as the agent in charge of this wing.

“Just to be clear, these aren’t cells, right?” Rhodey asks, looking suspiciously at the doors.

“Oh, no. These are simply hospital rooms, but they have been fitted with electronic locks. We use them for victims or suspects who are high flight or fight risk. The children will be comfortable, I assure you.” He gestures behind himself. “I’ll show them their rooms.”

The kids follow behind him as Rhodey and Tony stay back.

The agent opens the first door, and looks over to Sam. “Sam, this is going to be your room for tonight, okay? Look, it’s even got it’s every own TV in front of the bed.” Sam takes a step inside, looks around for several seconds before finding the TV and nodding excitedly. “See that remote right there by the bed? You can press that red button on there and it will call a nurse if you need anything. Just let us know if you get hungry or thirsty or want anything, alright?”

“Okay!” Sam plops down on the bed, TV remote already in hand as he clicks it on to begin flipping through the channels. The agent nods at him and backs out, closing the door to Sam’s room. He walks across the hall, opens another door.

“Steve, this is your room.” Steve and Bucky move to step inside, but the agent stops Bucky with his free arm. “James, you have your own room. This is just Steve’s.”

“What?” Steve spins around from the doorway, his eyes narrowing at the agent.

“Yeah, what the hell?” Bucky counters as he pushes the arm away from himself angrily.

“Guys…” He sighs.

“I stay with him.” Bucky moves to stand next to Steve, the two boys mirroring each other as they cross their arms over their chests stubbornly. The agent gapes at the two for a second, before giving up.

“Fine, fine. But we’re not bringing in a second bed. You both heard what I said to Sam about the red button to call a nurse, yes?” The boys both nod.

“Okay, good. Goodnight you two.” He closes the door. He turns back to the remaining three kids and tries to herd them further down the hall.

Natasha refuses to move.

“Why’d you stop, Natasha?” He asks. She glares at him. He raises an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

She still doesn’t answer. The agent turns back to where Tony and Rhodey are standing at the end of the hallway. “Can we _please_ get a translator, already?” He faces the red head again.

“C’mon, we need to get you settled in your rooms for the night.” The agent reaches out and tries to grab Natasha’s wrist, but she yanks it back.

“Natalia,” Clint whispers to her, his eyes wide. “You’re going to make him mad.” He tries with worried eyes. She turns to him, makes eye contact for several seconds before returning to glare down the agent. He rubs a hand over his face, mumbles to himself something about his pay before giving up. He snatches her upper arm and tries to force her to continue down the hallway with them.

“Fuck!” He yelps, as small teeth sink into his hand. He pulls his hand away from her arm. To this right, Bruce flinches and Clint pushes himself between the black-haired boy and the disgruntled agent. “We’re not doing this right now.” The agent says as he swoops down and grabs Natasha, picking her up with an arm around her waist as he holds her to his side. Natasha squirms in his arms for several seconds, small hands fumbling at his scrubs before giving up and letting herself be carried.

Bruce is next to be shown his room, but after seeing the fear in his eyes, Clint steps in. He moves to stand next to Bruce and grabs his hand. “If Steve and Bucky get to share a room, why can’t we?”

“They’ve known each other since they were babies. Why don’t you give Bruce some privacy, okay?”

Clint opens his mouth to argue, but Natasha beats him to it by delivering a swift kick to the agent’s legs from her position on his hip. He cruses, allows Natasha to slide down out of his grasp as he gives in to the second pair of boys. “ _Fine._ ”

Clint points at Natasha. “Her too.”

“Absolutely not.” The agent backs out with Natasha and closes their door before Clint can make any more negotiations.

“Okay, Natalia.” The agent pulls her over to the very last door. She goes willingly, a complete 180 from her pace just a few minutes ago. “This is yours… Hey, listen. You are not to leave this room. This room is safe, and we are trying to help you. Got that?”

Natasha blinks at him.

“Right. Okay. Press the red button if you need anything and someone will come to help you.” Natasha simply turns away from him and goes to sit on her bed until he leaves. Stepping outside the room, the agent relaxes, finally done with all the kids. He pulls out his walkie talkie. “Okay, guys. All the kids are in. You can go ahead and lock the doors for the night.” The locks echo down the hall as they all click shut.

Natasha surveys her room, taking in the small camera situated in the right top corner and the locks on the door. She turns her back to the camera and hunches over. From the waistband of her leggings, she pulls out a master keycard, successfully swiped out from the agent’s chest pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes we didn't catch! 
> 
> Leave a comment or kudos and let me know what you think! As I said before, they are super motivating and I love hearing from everyone! 
> 
> Or come visit me at Natasha-Romanoff-deserved-better.tumblr.com! feel free to drop a story suggestion, fangirl about Natasha, or just say hello! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three is here! Sorry for the delay, but I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> Thanks to @quietlyimplode for beta reading and being awesome!

Clint awakes to a rough shove on his shoulder. Jerking up, sleep gone from his eyes in an instant, as he scans the room for danger. There is none- it’s just Natalia. She’s standing by his bedside, clad in the leggings and jacket despite the clock on the wall reading almost 2:30am.

“’Atalia? What are you doing?”

“Get up. We’re leaving.”

“I knew it! You _can_ talk!”

Natasha is unimpressed at his intuition. “Of course I can talk.”

“Then why didn’t you ever talk to Tony or the other guy?”

“Why would I let them know I can understand them? I’m not an idiot. People tell secrets when they think you don’t understand.”

Clint mouth hangs open in amazement at her thought process. “That’s so cool! I wish I had thou- wait. How did you get in my room?”

Natasha holds up her left hand, a keycard clasped between her fingers. “I stole it from the agent last night when he picked me up.” Natasha rolls her eyes at the thought. “But come _on._ We have to go, now. Before they realize I took it.”

Clint nods, and rushes to climb out from under the covers of the hospital bed. The commotion rouses Bruce, who sleepily opens one eye to peek at the pair. Natasha grabs his new glasses from the hospital bedside table and hands them to him.

He gives her a small smile in thanks, then looks between the two other kids. “You’re leaving?”

“Yup.” Clint nods. “I gotta get back to my brother. He says hospitals are bad, anyways… You’re coming too, right?”

Bruce sits up, gives them a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t have anywhere to go…”

“You can come with me! Barney says we’re going to join a circus soon! Doesn’t that sound so fun?”

Bruce chews on his bottom for a moment, staring at Clint as he considers his offer.

“Well, I do really like elephants…”

“So, it’s decided then!” Clint exclaims, a smile spreading across his face at his new friend. Natasha rolls her eyes at them and turns away from the pair to glance out the door, checking the hallway for any wondering agents.

“Are you two ready to go or not? We still need to get the others.”

“Yes,” The two of them say in unison. Neither of them had any possessions besides the clothes the hospital had given them, which; while annoying made things a lot easier. No packing required.

Steve and Bucky are not as excited as Clint and Bruce were.

Bucky stood in front of Steve, who was sat upright on their bed, with his arms crossed and expression hard. “We’re not going.”

“Why not?” Natasha asks, irritation in her accented voice.

“You didn’t plan anything!” He throws his arms up in the air. “How are we even going to get anywhere after we get out?”

Natasha shrugs. “We can figure that out later. I don’t see the problem.”

Bucky gestures over at Steve. “He can’t walk very far. And besides, this place has really good medicine here!”

“So just take some of the medicine?”

Bucky glares at the three of them, until Natasha finally rolls her eyes and gives in. “Fine. Stay here. We’re going home.” She turns around, and nods at Clint and Bruce to follow her out the door.

They shuffle out, quickly hurrying across the hallway to Sam’s door, where Natasha bounces onto her tip toes to scan the keycard across the electronic lock. There is a small click from the lock, and Clint pulls it open for her and Bruce.

Natasha moves over to Sam’s bed to shake his shoulder. “Sam,” She whispers, “Wake up.”

Sam grumbles, brings an arm up and take a swipe at Natasha, which she avoids easily. “Five more minutes.”

Natasha frowns and pinches his arm. He finally opens his eyes, confusion clouding his face.

“What are you all doing here?”

“We’re busting out of here!” Clint tells him.

“What? Why? All these people seem really nice…”

“They kidnapped us.” Natasha deadpans.

“What?”

“We all woke up in an exploded building, and then they forced us onto a plane and now they’ve locked us in here. For no reason. You’re not hurt, are you?”

“…No.”

“Exactly. Then explain why you’re locked in a hospital?”

“Um,”

Clint spoke up. “We’ll help you get back to your mom and dad. They’re probably worried about you- I know my brother is.”

Sam considers this a moment. He chews on his bottom lip as he meets eyes with the three other standing in front of him. They have a good point.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m coming with you.”

“We gotta get passed the dude at the desk in the front first, though.” Clint reminds them. Natasha thinks for a second, before turning to Bruce.

“Think you could distract him?”

Bruce’s eyes widen. “What? Why me?”

“They’ll never suspect you. You look too nice.”

“What do I do?”

Clint butts in. “It’s easy! Just pretend to be sick or hurt or something. Barney has me do it all the time.”

Natasha nods. “And then I’ll sneak up behind him.”

Bruce is clearly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t back out like he wants too. “Okay…”

Natasha doesn’t waste any time, just grabs his arm and shoves him out the doorway. He trips over his two feet but manages to right himself before he can completely face plant. He shuffles down the hall and around the corner, poking his head out so he can see the agent sitting at the front desk. He is clearly uninterested, lounging back in his chair while his feet are propped up on the desk. All his attention is focused on his phone, engaged in some kind of colorful game.

Bruce wraps his arms around his stomach and hunches over. “Excuse me?” He calls as he steps into view. He brings his eyebrows together, trying his best to put on the best puppy eyes he could.

The agent startles at his voice, jerking up and swiveling around to find Bruce. “Bruce? What- how did you get out of your room? I thought we- wait, are you okay?”

Bruce chooses to ignore the room question, instead shakes his head and motions to his stomach, as he takes another step. “I, uh. I feel sick.”

The man stands up, walking closer to Bruce and kneeling to his level. He opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off by Natasha launching herself onto his back. 

Natasha uses his shoulders to lift and push herself up and get her legs around his neck. The man bucks up and reaches back to try and yank her off, but she continues squeezing with her thighs to keep her balance and restrict his breathing. With her right hand, she reaches down and pinches a point on his neck.

The man goes down. They tumble to the ground together, Bruce narrowly side stepping out of the way and Natasha rolls of his back, a wide smile on her face at her success.

“Whoa!”

“How’d you do that?”

Clint and Sam are watching wide eyed to the side.

“There’s a…” She pauses, trying to remember the English word. “A… sleep point? No. Pressure point on the neck. I pinched it.”

Natasha bends down to the unconscious agent and sticks her hands into his pockets. She produces another keycard, which she hands off to Bruce. She unhooks the gun from his holster and shoves it into her leggings waistband.

Clint runs over to the two large doors across the lobby, grabbing onto the handles. The doors open, revealing more into the compound. It’s the middle of the night, so there are less agents than normal, but still an unsettling amount milling around. Natasha turns back to them, eyebrows furrowed. “We.” She pauses, words elusive, “sneak by them. Find an exit.” She finishes.

“There.” Sam points to a small counter with several computer screens sitting atop. “We can hide behind that… and then sneak into that hallway on the other side.”

“I’ll go first.” Natasha doesn’t wait for a confirmation, instead just darts out into the open, crouched low as she silently moves through the room and ducking behind the counter between it and the wall.

One by one, with the help of Natasha on the other side motioning to them, the other three scurry across to their new hiding spot. Sam is the last to go, and almost there when he slips, drawing the attention of several agents who come dangerously close to spotting him.

Every kid breathes a sigh of relief when Sam makes it safely to them. Natasha worries her bottom lip. “There’s too many of us too all get around like this. We’re too noticeable.”

“What if we turn out the lights?” Clint suggests.

“Yeah!” Sam agrees, nodding along. “I saw that in a movie once. They shut off all the power.”

Natasha looks to Clint for guidance, giving in when she sees his and Sam’s confidence. “But how will we get to the power?”

“Usually it’s a whole room you needa’ find with tons of buttons and switches and things.”

“There’s a map on the wall over here.” Bruce speaks up, pointing at a framed picture labeled “fire escape route” in bright letters.

“Perfect!” Sam, the tallest of the four, stands on his tip toes to see the map clearly. The compound is big, the map almost slightly overwhelming as he scans over it. Not all the rooms are labeled, instead just the general wings. “There.. maybe?” He points to a section that doesn’t have any labels, guessing it must be the general upkeep rooms. “Or actually, maybe, there?” He points at another spot. “Oh, or-“

“Someone’s coming!” Clint warns. He grabs Sam’s wrist to pull him down, Natasha and Bruce on their heels as they take off running down the hallway.

“Which way, Sam?!”

Sam calls out for them to turn right, into a smaller corridor. “I think this way.” He says, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice as he leads them. They slow to a jog when they’re out of view from any agents, but the adrenaline pumping through their veins keeps them all on high alert. They don’t stop to catch their breath until they make it to the wing Sam identified and find a room titled controls. Natasha pulls out the keycard and holds it over the lock.

“черт возьми!” Natasha exclaims as the lock flashes red, signaling the keycard was not compatible. She brings the keycard down to examine it closer, before throwing it to the ground in frustration.

Sam watches her in concern, noticing the angry tears building in the corner of her eyes. “It’s okay,” he tells her, moving to pick up the card.

“It was only for hospital locks!”

“Maybe we could…break the lock or something?” Bruce offers.

Clint shakes his head. “I can get in.”

“The _key_ doesn’t _work._ ” Natasha repeats herself at him. She stomps a foot to help emphasize her point, as if he hadn’t just watched her explain it to Sam.

“I _know_ that. I don’t need a key. Look,” Clint points upwards towards the ceiling, where a small vent is blowing cool air. “If I can get up there, maybe I can crawl in?”

Natasha is not impressed with his plan, but she can’t think of any other ideas. Bruce is already helping Clint push a chair they’d found over to just below the vent. “Okay,” Clint instructs. “Someone needs to help me up though.”

“I’m the strongest.” Natasha volunteers.

“No! I am!” Sam looks over at Natasha accusingly.

“No, you’re not!”

“Boys are almost always stronger than girls!”

“That’s not true!” And then quieter, under her breath, “Мудак.”

Sam jerks back. “What the heck does that mean?” He whirls around to Clint. “She just called me something!”

“Can you two shut up?” Bruce cuts in. The three other kids turn to him in surprise at the anger and annoyance in his voice. Once he notices them staring, he hunches back into himself. “Sorry. I just really don’t like fighting...”

Sam apologizes to him, while Natasha stays quiet, but a guilty look painted onto her face.

“Sam is taller than you, though, so he would be best.” Clint tells them. Natasha doesn’t argue, knowing he is right but not wanting to admit it out loud. As Sam climbs onto the chair, Natasha and Bruce hold the legs steady, making sure the chair isn’t going to slip out from under them. Clint steps up onto the chair with Sam and awkwardly begins climbing up onto his shoulders.

Clint takes a second to find his footing, whispering apologizes whenever Sam softly grunts in discomfort. He grabs hold of the vent, threading his small fingers through the bars and yanking the vent cover away. It clatters to the ground, all of them cringing at the loud sound. “Okay!” Clint gets a steady hold into the vent and begins to pull himself up into the small passage. Beneath him, Sam boosts him up the rest of the way. “I’m in!” He announces as he lifts his lower body into it enough to swing his legs inside with the rest of him.

The passageways are small, but much bigger than the ones in his house. Crawling through with practiced ease, he takes the first left he comes across and crawls several more feet until he finds another vent. He peeks through, finding a room below him crowded with all kinds of screens, keyboards, buttons and lights. Clint squeezes himself around, curling up so that he can kick the vent cover out of the way.

Lowering himself down and letting himself drop, he falls hard, his ankle twisting as he hits the floor, and he holds in a grunt of pain. Forcing himself up, he rushes over to the door, pulling the hatch and pushing it open to where Natasha, Sam and Bruce are all anxiously waiting for him.

The three bundle inside, closing the door behind them. Bruce excitedly runs up to the screens, eyes wide as he quickly reads all the words and labels. Sam takes a place next to him, scanning the buttons.

“How do you know what is what?”

Bruce frowns. “I don’t.”

Clint isn’t interested in waiting. “Just press some!” He comes up behind them, reaches out, and runs a hand over a row of buttons. “One of them is bound to be the lights and doors.”

Before Bruce can stop him, the group is plunged into darkness. Shock causes them to freeze for a moment, only broken by Clint letting out a loud hoot and high fiving Bruce.

* * *

Steve picks a piece of skin from his thumbnail, frowning at the small bead of blood that bubbles up. Next to him, Bucky slaps his hand away.

“We should have gone with them.” Steve grumbles at him.

“Why?”

Steve shrugs. “It’s not right for us to stay here and just let them go off. What if they get in trouble? Or need help?”

“Just because they’re doing something doesn’t mean we have to too.”

“No, but if the whole group is going, we should too!” He explains. “Also… I can’t stay here. Ma won’t be able to pay a bill like this. It’s bound to cost an arm and a leg.”

Bucky glares at him for several seconds, before looking up to the ceiling and letting out a heavy sigh. “So, what, you want to go catch up to them or something?”

A smile spreads across Steve’s face as he nods excitedly.

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Yay!” Steve claps. Just as he is slipping out of the bed, everything goes black. “Hey! Turn the lights back on, Buck.”

“I didn’t turn them off.” Bucky frowns, glancing up to the lights. “Look, the hallway is dark too.”

“They probably turned the lights out to save money again. They’re super expensive, probably.”

“Yeah, maybe so.”

The friends tug the door open, the electronic locks no longing functioning due to the power outage. They step out of the room together, coming to a halt when they notice the agent laying haphazardly on the floor in the medical lobby.

Steve rushes over to him, looking down at the guards body. “He’s still breathing. Should we do something?”

Bucky is about to suggest turning him over when he is cut off by a high-pitched alarm ringing out through the air. He covers his ears reflexively as he jumps. The unconscious agent’s walkie talkie sparks to life, a voice calling out for him to answer, and then something about a code 673. “Shit. We gotta go.”

“We can’t just leave him like this!”

“Yes, we can. If someone comes and sees us, they’ll think we did this to him!”

Steve is unconvinced, so Bucky doesn’t wait. He grabs Steve’s wrist and hauls him away from the man, through to the other large doors and pushing their way through. It’s dark, so they can’t quite tell what type of room they’ve entered, but it’s large, and there’s people dressed similar to the agent all running around frantically. They pause, unsure of what to do next or where to go.

A pair of agents run by, and someone shouts an order out to them, telling them “they” are in the west wing and headed towards an exit. Bruce and Steve don’t need to discuss it- they take off running, following some of the agents but keeping in the shadows the best they could, avoiding the emergency lights.

A gunshot echoes through the building, causing them to both flinch a second time. The panicked agents become more frantic at that, yelling at each other to not fire back.

“It’s probably that girl. She shot the machine man who helped us, remember? And they wouldn’t want to shoot a kid.” Steve nods in agreement, and against their instinct, force themselves to run towards the sound of the gun.

They find Natasha standing with a gun held straight out in front of her. Behind her, Clint, Bruce and Sam are all gathered. In front of them, stand several agents, including the eye patched man Bucky recognizes from earlier. Their hands are all up, and one of the women agents is gently trying to coax Natasha to put the gun down, to come back with them.

* * *

Tony and Rhodey step out of the car, both unspeaking as they walk side by side into the tower, thoughts weighing heavily on each’s shoulders. Tony had thought going back to the tower would provide comfort to him- his home, where he could be surrounded by all the things he owned and loved and where the love of his life was waiting for him. But walking in, he is flooded with reminders of the team’s absence. A tea packet from Bruce left on the counter. Steve’s sketchbook and charcoal pencil settled neatly on an end table by the couch. One of Clint’s stray darts lay under the couch, discarded and forgotten from an aiming contest with Sam. Even the absence of Natasha’s things is a sign of her, her spy habits of leaving no trace.

“I’m glad they’re staying at SHIELD.” Tony says, later that night. He stokes a thumb over Pepper’s bare shoulder as they lay under the covers, Pepper’s head on his chest. She glances up at him, eyebrows raised in question. “When that doctor read off all their medical issues… and Fury’s right. Some of them, Their childhoods… I wouldn’t know how to deal with them.” Pepper isn’t sure who is he trying to convince, her or himself. “I’d only do more damage.”

It had taken Tony over ten minutes, a confirmation from Rhodey and video evidence dug from Friday’s storage to convince Pepper it wasn’t some prank Tony was trying to play on her. She’d handled it calmly, the reality not quite sinking in until later that night, when the tower was unusually calm and quiet.

Pepper doesn’t speak. She knows there is no convincing her husband of otherwise. Maybe, it would have been possible, several weeks ago. Before Peter had broken his leg and been knocked unconscious while under his supervision. Before the liquor supply had been drained in the matter of just several days. His mind is made up. She draws tiny circles into his skin until they both drift off.

FRIDAY jerks them awake, loudly announcing urgent messages from SHIELD. Tony grumbles awake before remembering, why exactly, SHIELD would even be contacting him in the first place. He has several missed calls from Fury, along with one text message reading “Get here now.” Helpful.

Tony and Rhodey arrive to the SHIELD compound, both in their suits and ready for whatever. There are agents running around, yelling demands and questions into phones and walkie talkies. The power appears to have been shut off, besides emergency generator lights and a blaring alarm.

“What the hell is going on?” Tony shouts over the alarm to Fury.

“The damned kids escaped. All six. They’re gone.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there goes the kids! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it! I always appreciate any kudos and comments- they motivate me to write faster! And as always, sorry for any sneak mistakes. 
> 
> Feel free to come visit or talk to me at https://natasha-romanoff-deserved-better.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! 
> 
> first off, I have to apologize for taking almost two months to get this chapter out to y'all. Being stuck back at my childhood home for seven months during this pandemic after losing my job has been hard on my mental health and motivation. The memories here aren't great. I also realized just how toxic my two year relationship was and left that, which was also hard and squished my writing motivation for a while. Things are finally starting to look up though, so hopefully I won't take this long again! Thank you all for being so patient with me. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! As always, sorry for any mistakes I didn't catch and thank you so much to @quietlyimplode as a proofreader! I high suggest hopping over to their tumblr and checking out their Whumptober stories! :)

“What the hell do you mean they _escaped?_ ” Tony asks, disbelief clear in his voice. “You’re telling me, a couple of children escaped from a government facility on their own?”

“No,” Fury corrected. “I’m telling you that a Red Room trained assassin who happens to currently be a child escaped and took the other five with her.”

There are still agents scrambling everywhere, but thankfully the alarm has finally been switched off. Fury pinches his nose between two fingers. “Romanoff managed to knock out one agent and shot two others who were trying to stop them all from leaving. Somehow, they managed to shut off all the power, including a majority of our locks and security cameras.”

“And then what? You just let them waltz on out?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Fury snaps. “Romanoff _shot_ two of our agents. They had a mini standoff near the doors. She shot the agent who was trying to keep Rogers and Barnes from joining them, and then another who was trying to stop them all from leaving together. She fired other shots, but they missed.”

Somewhere in the building, two quick shots are weird. Fury grimaces. “Unfortunately, some of those locks they undid also included some cells we were holding suspects in.”

Tony can’t help but snicker at that, and Rhodey nudges him. “This is serious, Tony.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, but you can’t deny it’s at least a _little bit_ funny.”

Rhodey stares at him for several seconds, before the corners of his mouth slightly quirk up as well.

* * *

“I’m hungry.” Sam whines as he kicks away a small pebble with the toe of his shoe. Natasha looks up from her spot on the ground, leaning against a brick wall.

“They gave us snacks on the plane.” She reminds him.

Clint frowns. “That was like, forever ago.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Get over it.”

“Actually, they’re right.” Bruce speaks up, voice soft. “I’m kinda hungry too.”

“There’s a bodega I saw right around the corner. They’d have food.” Sam points out.

“We don’t have any money, though…” Bruce mentions.

“We’ll just sneak it out.” Clint tells them, with a causal shrug of his shoulders.

Sam is appalled. “That’s stealing!”

“Do you want food or not?”

Sam doesn’t have a response for him, instead just crosses his arms and gives a small shrug of his own.

The group walks in through the automatic sliding doors, Bucky and Steve only barely hiding their surprise at them. They briskly walk through the store, heads held high as they pretend to have complete confidence in themselves. Sam leads them, having been chosen for having the most experience inside stores. He follows the small aisle signs to the food section, acting as if he had been inside this exact store many times before.

They all crowd into the aisle, away from the view of the balding man behind the cash register. Steve has a fist of Bucky’s shirt clutched in his hand as the two of them gape at the shelves.

“There’s so much…” Steve whispers in awe.

Sam sends them a weird look, but Bruce shakes his head at him. Sam then sends a questioning expression to Bruce, who only shrugs his shoulders in response.

“Okay, um…” Natasha frowns, looking at all the bulky food items that would be hard to conceal within their clothes. “Here.” She grabs a loaf of bread and untwists the tie. She reaches inside, grabs a handful of pieces and pulls them out, passing them out. “Put it in your clothes somewhere not obvious.”

It helps that most of their clothes are a slightly baggy on them- the medical wing did the best they could to fit them with what they had, but it still didn’t quite sit the best on them.

Clint shoves a piece flat up against his stomach. Sam folds a piece and sticks it up his long sleeve. Bruce pins a piece of bread to his hip using his waistband. Natasha watches them, and once satisfied, ties and places the bread loaf back onto the shelf.

“What else?” She asks them, also feeling slightly overwhelmed at all the options.

“These!” Bucky reaches up and pulls down a pack of beef jerky. He shows the group his find with a wide smile as he holds it out for approval. The others glance at it, and with a shrug each pull off bag of jerky of their own.

They each look each other over, checking one another to make sure any hiding spots aren’t too obvious. Steve doesn’t look thrilled about the stealing, but he doesn’t say anything, so they ignore him. Sam is slightly hesitating on walking them out, so Natasha brushes past him, taking the lead.

The cashier’s eyes linger on them for a second as they move out, but then return to the notepad on the counter. The children file out of the door. They’re careful not to rush to much while leaving, but once the doors close behind them, they break out into a sprint. They’re all smiling, laughing and yelling with adrenaline as their feet pound on the ground.

“That was _awesome_!” Clint exclaims as they turn the corner and back into their small hideaway alleyway.

“We’re like those cool movie villains!” Sam agrees.

They’re all panting as they pull out their spoils, bread being disturbed between them. They attempt making jerky sandwiches, but quickly find out the jerky is too tough for that, so they eat their makeshift dinner one by one.

Bucky tears the last corner off his bread piece, and hands it over to Steve, who is sat slightly away from the group. Steve takes the offered piece but doesn’t put it in his mouth.

Bucky frowns. “Are you okay?” he asks as he sits down next to his best friend. Steve nods, but doesn’t answer. “Stevie.” 

“I’m…fine.” Steve forces out, breathless. By now, it had been several minutes since they’d stopped running, and everyone else’s breathing has mostly evened out.

Bucky scoots forward, coming to sit in front of Steve. “In and out, Steve. You gotta keep trying to breathe. Ma said 4 seconds in and 4 seconds out, remember?”

Steve nods, concentrating on moving the air through his lungs instead of the burning in his chest. Bucky begins doing the breathing exercise with him, slightly to encourage him, but mostly to distract him as he does funny faces with each intake and exhale.

Bruce is watching the scene nearby, focused on the two boys. “He has asthma?”

Bucky nods without taking his eyes off Steve. 

“He needs an inhaler.” Bruce tells him.

Bucky sends him a look then, slightly exasperated. “If we had an inhaler, don’t you think we’d be using it right now?” Bucky turns back to Steve. “Besides, it’s fine. I’ve talked him through them a lot. I know what I’m doing.”

Natasha, Clint, and Sam are all watching now as well, standing back with curious eyes. “Is he going to be okay?” Clint asks.

“I’m fine.” Steve’s strained voice cuts in.

“It’d be best if we could get home soon though. We have an inhaler at home.”

“He’s right.” Natasha speaks up. “I need to get back too. Quickly. I don’t have time for this.”

“So… how do we all get back then? The only ones who lives in New York are them but we’re all far away.”

“We gotta get to an airport, I guess.”

* * *

“Boss, I have something.” Friday’s voice jerks Tony out of his trance, from where he is reviewing the security footage from the medical wing before the cameras had been cut off, hoping the kids may have revealed part of their plan while still there. “A group of six unaccompanied children matching their descriptions has been picked up on a security camera walking down 25th street. Would you like to view it?”

“No, it’s them.” He says, confident in Friday’s ability to recognize them and the group’s strange appearance. He wasn’t willing to waste anymore time- at this point, the kids had been gone for several hours, and the worry was becoming unbearable. Even the safest parts of New York could be dangerous, especially for children who most likely had no idea where they were or how to navigate the modern-day city. “Friday, suit up.” He wanted to get to them as soon as possible. “Alert Fury and Rhodey as well.” He commanded as his suit began to encase him. “Tell Fury we need to clear the area of any civilians. I don’t want the kids making a scene and someone filming them.”

Friday agrees and Tony takes off in his suit, the location the group was last seen already entered in the GPS.

Once he lands, Tony leaves his suit behind, safely tucked behind into a corner. Rhodey argues with this, recalling the way Natasha had fired several kill shots at him at the first time they confronted them. But he suspected he would have more success with all the kids outside of the suit. He didn’t want them fearing him or thinking that they were in trouble.

He steps out into the open.

Clint spots him almost immediately, and wastes no time yelling out a shrill "run!" to the others. None of them even question it- they all take off running at his alert.

"Shit. Fuck. Shit." Tony cusses as he begins sprinting after his miniature teammates, chasing them around a block corner. "They've going down 27th!!" He yells into his earpiece, informing Fury and Rhodey of the new direction.

They don't make it far-a black SUV makes a sudden turn and bumps over the curb onto the sidewalk several feet in front of them, cutting off their path as agents unload from the vehicle.

Natasha spins around and has the stolen gun pointed at his head before he can even get a single word out. She shoulders her way in front of all the others, protecting them. Behind her, Steve starts into a renewed wheezing fit.

He doesn’t take his eyes off the group, but in the corners of his vision he can see the SHIELD agents gathering around, ensuring none of the kids could make a run for it or that any civilians could see what was happening. Keeping a close watch on Natasha, he can tell the appearance of agents and Fury beside him puts her more on edge. Her finger moves to rest on the trigger.

“Natalia.” He brings both hands up, showing he has no weapons or intentions to fight. “You know me, remember? I helped you.”

She blinks at him.

Tony sighs. “That’s going to work anymore. I know you can speak English now.”

“You left us with _them._ ” She says, gesturing over at Fury and other agents with disdain.

Steve makes a strained noise as he tries and fails to suck in air. Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder, whispers something to him.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I thought you all would be safest there.”

“We wanna go home!” Sam cuts in. They all nod in agreement.

“I know. We’re going to help you.” Technically, it wasn’t lying. It wasn’t like he said what or how they were planning help.

Steve buckles and his knees hit the ground. Bucky drops as well, having had a grasp on his friend’s elbow. His voice is more urgent now as he continues trying to talk Steve down. It’s not making a difference.

“Steve needs help, Natalia. We can help him if you let us.”

Natasha is gnawing on her lip, and she sends a worried glance over her shoulder at the two boys on the ground. 

“His lips are turning blue,” Bucky tells her, his eyes wide.

Natasha looks back to Tony. “You’ll save him, yes? No tricks?” She asks.

“No tricks,” Tony promises.

Natasha takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for several seconds as she steels herself, and lowers the gun.

Rhodey rushes in, dropping to Steve's level and shoving an inhaler between his lips. he presses the top of the inhaler, once, twice, three times, ejecting the lifesaving medicine. Steve reaches out to grab at Rhodey, the scared young boy searching for comfort in his savior.

Natasha's gun clatters to the ground as she drops it, bringing her hands up to hide her face. The gun now safely out of her hands, other agents close in, wrapping the kids in blankets and handing them water bottles. Natasha, however, doesn’t let any of them near her.

She turns to Tony. "What are you going to do to us?"

"I-what?"

"Because we ran away. What is our punishment? I would prefer to know now." There's a very slight tremor in her voice she is trying hard to hide.

Tony’s joy at finding them all safe and unharmed sinks. She had given herself up thinking she would be punished all so that Steve could get his medicine. “Oh, god. No, Natalia. None of you are in trouble, okay? No one is mad. We're just happy you're all safe.”

Behind him, Fury snorts. “Speak for yourself. She shot several of my agents.”

“Not. Helping.” Tony hisses at him.

Fury is unbothered. “I’m just saying. When they come back they’re going to have to have extra security, maybe an agent just assigned to her to make sure this doesn’t happen ag- “

Tony cuts him off. “Come back?” He raises his eyebrows, now turning to face Fury directly, putting his body directly between him and Natasha. “What makes you think they’re going back to SHIELD?”

“What makes you think they aren’t?”

“They aren’t going back with you. Clearly, none of them felt safe there.”

“And where else are they going to go, Stark?”

“They’re staying with me.”

Fury laughs, but Tony doesn’t budge.

“Come on now, Stark. Let’s be reasonable here.” Fury says, taking a step closer.

Tony raises a hand, a gauntlet already forming on his hand and charging up, ready to shoot. “You’re not taking them. They’re coming back to the tower with me, where they’ll be safe and cared for. Kids don’t belong in a hospital, Fury.”

Fury shows his palms, a sign of surrender as he backs away again. “Fine, fine. Whatever you say. Have fun trying to manage all of them. We’ll get out of your hair then, since you so clearly don’t want us here.”

Tony doesn’t move from in front of the kids until all the agents are loaded back into their SUV’s and are out of sight. Only then does he lower his gauntlet and turn back to the children.

Steve is still on the ground, and holding the inhaler in his hand, but no longer seems to need it. Instead he is now sitting criss cross, focusing on taking deep breaths. Bucky is standing next to him, arguing with Sam about the logistics of Tony’s gauntlet, whether it was a gun or a bomb. Bruce is standing silently, shifting his weight from foot to foot as his eyes go back and forth between the two adults. Natasha is a few steps away, unhappy expression on her face as she ignores Clint, who is making a poor attempt at a joke to try and ease her.

“I’ve already called Pepper,” Rhodey tells him. “Told her we found them and to meet us here with a car.”

Tony thanks him, no idea what he would do without his best friend who was always thinking one step ahead. “Are you all okay? Does anyone need anything?” He asks to the gaggle of children.

They shake their heads wordlessly.

Expect Sam.

“We ate a snack already so don’t worry!” All the kid’s eyes snap to him, narrowed. Bucky reaches out and punches him in the arm.

“You aren’t supposed to tell them that!”

Sam is clearly offended at the accusation, mouth dropping open as he defends himself. “He asked! What’s wrong with telling him we ate?!”

“Because we stole the food, dipshit.”

“Hey, hey.” Tony steps in. “Don’t call him tha- wait, _what_? You guys stole food?”

“Nice going.” Bucky whispers at Sam as he crosses his arms.

“It was Clint’s idea!” Sam says, pointing over to Clint.

“Hey!” Clint exclaims, a betrayed look on his face.

“Jesus Christ.” Tony pinches the bridge of his noise, trying to rub away his building headache. “Where did you guys steal from?”

“That place over there,” Sam points down the street. “With the green sign.”

Tony follows his finger, and groans again when he sees the small mom and pop shop that Sam identified. “Okay. Everyone look at me.” He waits until all six tiny eyes are on him. “We don’t steal, alright? Stealing is bad.”

Tony pauses, frowning at himself for a second. “Or…We don’t steal from small shops, okay? Those people need the money. If you have too, go to somewhere like, Walmart or something. But that’s only if you absolutely have too. Got it?”

A large black car pulls up to the curb next to them. The front door opens, and Pepper steps out, eyes landing immediately on the avengers turned children.

“Oh, my god.” She breathes out, seeing them all for the first time in person since the time stone incident. “They’re so _cute.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed!! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and help me write faster! Feel free to drop by my tumblr @Natasha-Romanoff-deserved-better.tumblr.com to say hi, scream about Natasha or mcu, or anything else! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the long wait- I finally got a new job and moved to a new city, which has all been an experience in of itself. Things are starting to finally settle down now though, so here I am! 
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes! And thank you so much to @quietlyimplode for beta reading!

The car ride goes as well as any of them expected, with the six kids arguing over who got to sit where; who got the window seats, who got to choose what radio station they listened too, how hot or cold the car should be, and even who had the “best” seatbelt, whatever the hell that meant. Thankfully, they reached the tower within fifteen minutes, and the sight of it stunned all six into total silence.

“Whoa,” Clint breathes out, after several seconds of awe. “Coolest foster home ever!”

Tony doesn’t bother to correct him.

Tony and Pepper leave the car out front, Friday taking over control to direct it into the garage. Rhodey meets them inside, having flown his suit back.

“I confiscated all the weapons in the common areas. Or…. All the weapons I could find. You never know with…” He stops himself from saying Clint and Natasha’s names, realizing how much confusion it would create. “With _those_ two.” 

“Rhodey, you are an absolutely savior.” Tony praises.

“I’ll go find everyone some pajamas from their rooms,” Pepper tells, frowning at the hospital clothing the kids were still wearing. “At least some old T-shirts would be better to sleep in, I’m sure.”

Tony stares at the kids. They stare back.

“Who’s tired?” They say nothing. “Right…well. You’re all going to sleep anyways. Because I know none of you got much before you Houdini-ed your way out of SHIELD.”

It had already been decided, wordlessly, that none of them would be spending the nights in their original adult rooms. The main worry had been Clint and Natasha and the sheer number of weapons they had hidden all over their quarters, but it would also be much easier to keep an eye on all of them if they were all on the same floor.

The tower had a floor consisting all of guest rooms- It had been a joke at first, mainly from his wild playboy days. Now, it was used for guests staying overnight, be it for parties, galas, or several day long conferences. It was usually the safest option for many, eliminating the need for hotels and allowing the meetings to take place with much more secrecy. Tony loaded them all into elevator and brought to them to the guest room floor.

Whether they were willing to admit it or not, it was obvious they were all tired. For one, Bruce couldn’t stop yawning every other minute or so, which would set off a chain reaction through all the kids. Sam and Clint were both rubbing their eyes, Steve and Bucky looked like they were about to drop dead. Even Natasha was showing signs of tiredness, her eyes drooping closed for split second before jerking back up.

Pepper meets them on the floor, holding old shirts that she passes out to each respective owner. After everyone has their shirts, Tony randomly assigns each their own room. Steve and Bucky completely ignore him and enter the same room.

After everyone is all settled into their rooms, Tony is headed towards the end of the hallway to the suite room when Natasha pokes her head out her door.

“You forgot about me.”

“What?” Tony’s brows furrow, trying to think what she could possibly mean. She simply holds out her wrist to him, an expectant look on her face. “Sorry, kiddo, but you’re gunna have to help me out here a bit more. What’s wrong?”

Natasha drops her arm in annoyance at his ignorance. “Handcuff?”

“Oh. No, Nat, god. No, no handcuffs.” Tony crouches to her level, hoping to get his point across. “You’re free to move around as you wish here. Got that?”

If the look on her face is anything to go off of, Natasha does _not_ got it. Her nose is scrunched up and forehead creased slightly in confusion, but she still nods.

“Alright, good. I’m just going to be down in that room over there, so you can call me if you need anything at all, yeah?”

Natasha nods again, whispers a quiet “thank you, sir” and steps back into her room, leaving Tony dumbfounded in the hallway.

* * *

Tony closes the door, leaning his back against it. “Oh, god.” His hands come up to rub at his face.

From her side on their bed, Pepper lowers her book and raises an eyebrow at him.

“What the hell did I do, Pepper? What the fuck was I thinking?”

“You were thinking about their best interests—”

“Best interests,” He scoffs. “I’m _me_ , Pep. I can’t take care of six kids! Hell, I can’t even take care of myself!” He runs his hands through his hair, grabbing tufts and pulling slighting. “Oh, _god_.”

“Tony- just breathe for a minute,”

“Fucking hell. What if something happens to them? It will be all my fault. What if they run away from me as well? Or if I crash the car while driving them somewhere? What if,- I don’t give them enough food and they starve and.. Oh god, I don’t even know if any of them have any food allergies or not? There’s no way Steve _isn’t_ allergic to something. And these kids are way too smart for their age. You should have seen them on those tapes. Jesus Christ, I’m going to get them killed. There’s no doubt about it.”

“Tony.” Pepper demands. He looks up at her, panic written all over his face. She pulls back the silk sheets covering her and opens an arm in invitation. “Come here.”

Tony scrambles over to her, climbing up onto the bed and then her, resting his head on her chest. She pulls the covers back up over them, hugs him close. “I can’t do this, Pepper. I don’t know how to take care or interact with kids. Especially not kids with their backgrounds…. I don’t want to ruin them even more. That’s what I do. I ruin people.”

The last sentence, she knows, is a reference to his weapon making past, but also to Peter. She chooses to ignore it- they don’t need to go down that rabbit hole tonight- and keeps the focus on the team.

“The kids are going to be fine. They’re tough. And if god forbid anything does happen, we’ll get through it. The same as we do everything else. You have me. And Rhodey… And Happy, if Peter hasn’t given him one too many heart attacks yet.”

Tony snorts out a laugh at the mention of Happy and nuzzles deeper into his partner.

* * *

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea, Tony,” Pepper says, eyeing the children who are sitting at the table, happily munching on their breakfast of pancakes. It’s a stark difference from one hour prior, when Steve and Bucky had woken everyone up with their screaming after FRIDAY had said something to them.

(In retrospect, he probably should have mentioned the ceiling will talk back to you last night, but oh well.)

“We can just order clothes and whatever we need from online.”

She’s right- they could. It would be the easiest thing to do.

But Tony remembers his clothes as a kid. Always too itchy or rough or too soft, never the fun colors or designs like the other kids got to wear, never what he actually wanted. There had never been anyone around who could be bothered enough to take him to a store, to wait while he picked out his own things.

“I’m taking them.”

Pepper sighs. “Well just know you two are on your own.” She checks the time on her watch, a habit. “I have all kinds of things I need to settle, since it seems as if you’re going to be out of commission for a while.”

He knew she was right, even though he was tempted to beg her to come with. He and Rhodey only knew so much about kids, but she had seemed to have some kind of natural maternal instinct with them. He would be willing to bet his whole company that she would have no problem controlling the kids. But there were meetings, galas, conferences, so many things in his schedule that Pepper now that to cancel or reschedule or do herself.

* * *

The kids pour out of the cars as Tony stands aimlessly, staring at the building of the mall.

“Which stores even have kids clothing? I don’t know any of these names.”

Rhodey has beaten him to it, again, pulling out a google list on his phone. “Let’s start with… uh, that place.” He points some doors to his left, double checking the name of the store. “I don’t know. It’s a kid store and has five stars, so...”

“Good enough for me.”

They herd the kids the best they can towards the store, not wanting to lose anyone before the first ten minutes. Tony was about to just open the doors and turn the kids buck wild, but Rhodey stopped them all before entering.

“Okay, guys. Here’s the rules. You be nice to the employees, and don’t be disruptive. That means no screaming, yelling, fighting. None of that. And no leaving the store. You can go off by yourself within the store but don’t go out. Got it?” They all nod.

Tony adds on. “Yeah, what he said. But other then that just grab whatever you like and that fits. Price doesn’t matter, yeah?”

The kids run off in all different directions, each going towards whichever section caught their eye the most. He gives some time to run around by themselves, before going to check on them.

Bruce has stuck to mostly neutral colors, gray and brown sweaters hanging off his arms with the same pair of jeans hanging over his arm. Sam has gone ambitious, picking out shirts with the most obnoxious patterns and designs Tony has seen.

Steve and Bucky have each picked out a few things, but glancing at them, Tony can tell the clothes the two boys are holding are not their correct size.

“Those are way too big, you two. Do you know how to check sizes?”

“No, we know how.” Steve tells him, going red slightly. “It’s just that…it’s good to get bigger clothes. So you have room to grow.”

Realization dawns on Tony as he recalls this is most likely a symptom of being depression era kids.

“Steve, Bucky. Get your correct size. I promise I have more than enough money to buy more clothes the second either of you two grow an inch, okay?”

“How do you have so much money?” Bucky asks, but Steve shoves at his arm.

“Don’t be rude, Buck!”

“It’s not rude, I’m just asking!”

“Guys, it’s okay. Just trust me on this. Money won’t ever be an issue while you’re with me, alright? I want you to have things that fit you.” Deciding quickly to make it less about them and more himself, he adds, “It would really make me feel a lot better if you did that.”

That does it for them, and the pair returns the wrong sizing before moving to a completely different section to find the correct ones.

Checking in on Clint, he finds Natasha trailing after him several feet away, her arms empty. Tony frowns.

“Not finding anything you like, Nat?”

She shrugs. 

“Well. Why don’t you let me know what you like, and I can help you look?” She shrugs again. Wrapping her arms around her torso, she whispers something, too quiet for Tony to hear. “What?”

“I don’t know what I like. We do not choose clothes in Russia.”

“Oh. Right.” Of course she was confused. She had most likely never been given a choice of clothes before in her life. He racks his brain to try and think of what she might like. Black. Black was a safe option. He glances around himself for a few seconds before finding a plain black tank top and pulling it off the hanger. “What about this? It’s soft- here, feel it.”

Natasha tentatively reaches out a hand to run a small finger over the fabric, lips quirking up slightly at the smooth texture. Tony figures that’s the best he’s going to get from her and places the top into her hands.

He helps her pick out several other things. He tries other colors, but she seems to actively hate almost everything else. At one point, he pulls out a purple shirt, and she doesn’t sneer at the color like she has all the others, so he counts it as good enough and begins loading her up with purple things as well.

To the side, he can hear Rhodey speaking with Clint, suggesting Clint get some shirts other than graphic tees, and Clint’s flabbergasted “ _why would I do that?”_

Once all the kids have each gathered a decent number of tops and bottoms, Tony and Rhodey gather them all up to pay for all the new clothing. Sam and Clint are both bouncing on the heels of their feet, trying and failing to contain their excitement at getting so many new clothes. Rhodey has the brilliant thought to distract Steve and Bucky when the cashier tells him the price for all the items, as to avoid a freak out from the two.

One store down, Tony and Rhodes steer the group into another child clothing store, hoping to load up on as much as possible in one trip. Tony prayed they were just being overly cautious, and his teammates would be back to normal before they had a chance to wear all their new outfits.

It’s going well, Tony assures himself- Steve and Bucky have gotten more confident after the first store and have amassed a good amount of clothes between the two of them, Bruce has decided to go a little more adventurous this time and pick a green long sleeved. Natasha only has one thing, but she picked it out all on her own. Sam and Clint are-

Not there.

Tony whips around, eyes scanning the store frantically for the two boys. He had just seen them, not even five minutes ago. They’re not on the floor. Not in the dressing rooms.

“Rhodey!” Tony calls loudly, ignoring the ugly look sent at him from a middle-aged woman. “Have you seen Clint and Sam? Please tell me you’ve seen them.”

Rhodey copies the same move Tony had done just seconds earlier, twists around to sweep the store, as if Tony just hadn’t looked hard enough.

“I knew I’d lose them eventually. Fuck.”

His glasses-FRIDAY- sensing his stress levels, points him to the east, signaling to him she had picked up the two’s heat signatures in that direction. Tony and Rhodey take off, the other four kids following closely at their heels.

FRIDAY directs them, and they end up in the Disney store, surrounded by bright lights and colors and children’s music blasting from the ceiling speakers. “Sam! Clint!” He calls out loudly, ignoring the stink eye he gets from a mother holding a snotty nosed sleeping baby in her arms. The two boys pop out from between some aisles, each holding several toys in their arms.

“Tony! Look what we found! Look how cool!” Sam runs up to show him the toys they had found. Clint hangs back slightly, eyeing Tony for a second before dejectedly placing the toys onto a rack near him. Tony watches this, feels a slight tug on his heart strings.

“Clint,” Clint’s eye shot back up to his, a trace of guilt in his face. “Pick them back up. You’re not in trouble.” Tony turns to the other four, who Rhodey is standing behind. “Why don’t you all go pick out some toys or stuffed animals you like, yeah?”

Steve and Bucky link hands and hurry over to the aisle with the dress up solider uniforms, while Natasha hesitates but makes her way over near Clint, who points out a Simba lion stuffie to her. She rolls the fluffy ears between her fingers, before smiling slightly and pulling it into her arms.

By the time they’re all finished, the pile of stuffed animals and toys on the cash register is absurd, but the beaming faces of his teammates make it worth it. Over the pile, the girl working the register flicks her eyes between Tony and Rhodey and the kids.

“They’re adorable,” she says, smiling at them. “Must be quite the handful with so many. Are they all yours?”

Tony snorts. “You’re telling me. And, uh, yeah. Mostly. Something like that,” He says, not quite sure exactly how to answer.

She nods, looking between the two adults again and smile growing bigger. “Well, I think it’s wonderful. I can’t believe there are some groups out there that would try and stop you two from adopting,”

“Hm?” Tony says, reaching into his wallet to pull out his black card, only half heartedly listening. “Oh yeah, for sure. We- wait, what?”

“Oh, I’m just saying, clearly you two are very loving dads.”

“Oh! Um,” Tony splutters, completely caught off guard. This is not what he was expecting to have to deal with today. Natasha trying to stab someone, sure. Steve somehow ending up in a hospital from a freak medical illness, fine. Clint climbing up a clothing rack, whatever. But not being mistaken for a gay couple with six children with his best friend.

Next to him, Rhodey is laughing. The bastard. Rhodey throws an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulls him in, playing it up, and plants a sloppy kiss onto his cheek.

Thankfully, before Rhodey could pull anything else, the cashier scans the last stuffed animal and lets him know the final price. Tony happily pays it and hurries the kids out of the store, bags upon bags of new clothes and toys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! let me know what you thought in the comments, or if there's anything certain you'd like to see with the kids and maybe I'll fit it in! Comments and kudos help me write faster, so feel free to leave some! 
> 
> Or come chat with me at Natasha-romanoff-deserved-better@tumblr.com :)


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Finally, here is chapter six! I'm so sorry about the delay. 
> 
> Thank you so so much to @quietlyimplode (tumblr and ao3) for talking through ideas with me and also being an amazing Beta. Go read their whumptober- you won't regret it. 
> 
> !!! TRIGGER WARNING !!!! I'm serious about this one, y'all. Please, please be careful. Details in the next line:   
> Talks of childhood sexual abuse, as well as a scene involving a child attempting to come on to an adult due to past/pervious experiences. If you wish to skip this scene, stop reading at the part where Tony is outside messing with his glasses. 
> 
> Also I'm so sorry about the chemistry part lmao. I never had a chemistry class in school, so I have no what I was writing. I got it all from Wikipedia. Whoops. Hope it's at least somewhat correct!

FRIDAY wakes Tony at 6:07am with an alert that Bruce had woken up and the others were starting to slowly wake as well. Tony pokes his head into Bruce’s room to find the young boy sitting up in his bed, an open science book in his lap.

“Hey kiddo. Find yourself a good book?”

Bruce startles slightly at his voice, having been so wrapped up in his book he hadn’t noticed Tony. He looks up, pushes his glasses up back onto his nose and nods.

“Want to come help me make some French Toast?” Bruce doesn’t seem super excited at the idea, but he closes the book and sets it onto his bedside table before standing up to follow Tony into the kitchen. Tony sets them up at the stove, before noticing Bruce only comes up to about eye level at the counter.

“Hey, bud,” He pats the counter next to the stove. Bruce only stares at him in confusion. “Hop up. So you can help and actually see what I’m doing.”

Bruce chews on his lip for a second, watching Tony out the side of his eyes. He pretends not to notice and goes about pulling ingredients from the fridge. Eventually, Bruce follows his advice, and lifts himself onto the counter. He hunches into himself, trying to take up as little space as possible, but Tony still counts it as a win.

Tony offers to let Bruce crack open a few of the eggs, but he quickly shakes his head. Tony only shrugs and doesn’t push it, instead cracking the eggs himself and then pushing the filled bowl over to Bruce, handing him a whisk. “Stir?”

Bruce timidly puts the whisk in and begins stirring slowly. It takes a few a moments longer, but Tony lets him finish the job himself. Once it’s properly whisked, Tony dumps in some milk and then pressed the bread slices into the mixture, letting them soak up the liquid.

Once soaked, Tony slaps some pieces onto the frying pan.

“Chemical.” Bruce whispers.

“What?”

He points to the cooking bread in the pan that is now starting to sizzle. “That’s a chemical reaction.”

Tony can’t help the smile that breaks through his face. “Yeah, that’s right! Do you know what kind of chemical reaction it is?”

Bruce shakes his head.

“It’s called the Maillard Reaction. That’s when the Carbonly group of the sugars in the bread and milk and eggs reacts with the amino acids. It makes something called glycosylamine.” Tony peaks at Bruce to see if he was following. The kid is staring at him with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. He continues. “Then the glycosylamine does something called the Amadori reaction and makes Ketosamines. This is what makes bread brown when you toast it and why the taste changes.”

“ _Oh.”_ He says softly as he stares at the pieces of bread cooking in the pan. Tony can almost see the gears in his head turning as he watches it.

There’s a small murmur behind him, and he glances back to see Steve and Bucky shuffling into the kitchen, the two of them yawning and still blinking rapidly.

“Hey, guys. Sleep okay?” Steve only nods as Bucky quietly says “Yup” as they go and sit on the couch. “Breakfast will be ready soon, why don’t you guys sit at the table instead?”

Steve furrows his brows. “Breakfast again?”

Tony raises one of his. “Uh… Yes?”

“Oh. That’s cool. I like that you have lots of food.”

“So do I. No one goes hungry here, got that?”

Steve and Bucky both nod, while Bruce just continues to glare at the toast.

Eventually, the plate is piled high with pieces of golden French Toast. By then, the rest had tricked into the kitchen-- Sam waking only a few minutes after Steve and Bucky, and then later Clint, awoken by the smell of the food and dragging an exhausted looking Natasha from her room. Tony places the plates of food in the middle of the table.

“All right guys, dig in.”

No one moves. Steve looks to Bucky, who looks to Clint, who glances at Bruce, who stares at Natasha, who is studying the table. Right. Maybe not the best idea for a group of kids who are most likely all food insecure.

He takes their plates, one by one, and adds a few pieces of toast onto each before returning it to them. It’s clear this arrangement works much better, as they start to eat once the food has been expressly given to them.

Note taken. Tony leans back against the counter, nibbling on his own piece as he watches them. Clint scarfs his down, as if he’s worried someone was going to take it away, while Bruce is extremely particular- cutting his into all the same sized small pieces and then chewing them the same amount before wiping using his napkin to wipe his mouth after every bite. Steve and Bucky are thoroughly impressed with the dish- ranting and raving about it and smothering it in way too much syrup. Natasha refuses to eat hers at first, until she pushes her plate over to Clint, who eats several bites from it, gives her a thumbs up before sliding it back where she begins eating, albeit still suspicious. Sam has bitten two holes in the middle of his toast and has set to work nibbling a “smile” into the bread to make a complete smiley face.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes with another unanswered text.

* * *

“Where are the kids?” Rhodey asks, stepping into the lab.

Tony doesn’t take his eyes off the two pieces of metal he is screwing together. “Oh, they’re upstairs. Don’t worry, I put on a movie for them to watch, so they should be good for like,” He waves a hand around in the air, “40 more minutes or so.”

“Um. Okay. And who, exactly, is watching them?”

Tony snorts. “They’re like… six? Seven? I don’t actually remember but I’m sure they’re old enough to sit and watch a movie by themselves. I told FRIDAY to keep an eye on them, though.”

“Well, I guess in theory, yes. But do you honestly think this group has that kind of attention span to sit still for two hours?” 

Rhodey snorts as he watches the smug expression fall from his best friend’s face as he realizes what’s he done.

“Fuck.” He drops the metals onto his desk and hurriedly steps into the elevator, jamming the common living room button several times on the way up.

The living room isn’t in complete disarray like he had started to suspect it would be, but he does notice right off the bat that only two of the kids remain in the room. It’s Steve and Bucky- they’ve scooted off the couch to only about three feet in front of the screen, and are watching with their mouths gaping and wide eyes.

“It’s in _color!_ ” Steven shrieks at him upon his entrance, pointing at the TV.

“Yeah, yeah it is. But, um, do you two know where the others went?”

The two of them only shrug. Helpful.

“FRI? Please tell me you know?”

“I do, sir. Bruce Banner and Sam Wilson are both currently in the living room bathroom. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are in the air vents over the hallway two stories up.”

He shouldn’t be surprised about the vents. Adult Clint often crawled around them, but he had never put in much thought about what age his affinity for vents had started. He should have known the moment he watched child Clint climb through one to break into the SHIELD code room.

Rhodey sighs and turns back to the elevator. “I’ll go fish them out of the vents.”

Tony nods and makes this way to the bathroom, where the door is closed. He raps on it a few times with his knuckles, and calls out to the two boys, asking what they were doing in there. Their already soft voices immediately go quiet, as if he’d not realize they were inside and look elsewhere.

“Guys. I know for a fact you’re in there. Why don’t you open this door for me?”

It takes a few seconds, but eventually the door creaks open, Sam’s face poking out of the crack. “What’s the password?”

Tony frowns. “Uh…”

“Nope. Wrong.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“Um. No.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Is there actually a password, or are you just planning to say no to everything and just never let me in?”

Sam’s shoulders sag in defeat. “Fine. There’s no password.” He opens the door another few inches, revealing the mess inside and Bruce, who has shoved himself into a corner of the bathroom as he tries to frantically wipe off his hands on his shorts.

The sink along with the bathtub both look like the shampoo bottles threw up all over them. In a sense, they probably had, as evidenced by the several now empty product bottles lying scattered on the floor. Sam follows his eyes. “We tried to only do it in the sink but it was _clearly_ too small so we moved to the bathtub.” He explains, gestured at the mixed products.

“Riiiight. And what, exactly, is … it?”

“We made potions!”

Tony is once again, not at all surprised.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. We’ll clean it all up, I promise. You won’t even be able to tell…” Bruce grabs the towel closest to him and begins scrubbing at a purple cream dollop that had splashed onto the floor.

“Hey, Bruce, it’s fine. Really. I’m not mad.”

Bruce furrows his brows at him, flabbergasted. “But we made a mess.”

Tony snorts and waves them out of the bathroom. “Yeah, well, as I understand it messes are normal kid activities. And I’d be lying if I said I never made fake potions myself.” He chooses to not mention the potions contained actual chemicals from his father’s lab and often resulted in small explosions. “I’ll have one of the bots come clean it… Or, several of them.”

“You have cleaning robots too?” Sam asks. “That is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard!”

Tony agrees, and deposits the two kids back onto the couch to continue watching the movie. He’s in the middle of attempting to convince Steve and Bucky to move back some when the elevator opens, revealing Rhodey along with Nat and Clint.

The two kids wordless go and sit on the couch as well, not even looking at Tony. “They weren’t happy about it, but I got them out.” Rhodey says, gesturing to them. Now seated, Natasha is struggling to keep her head up as her eyelids close against her will before she forces them back open.

All six kids back in view, Tony lets himself relax into one of the bar stools. “Don’t look at me like that.” Tony calls at Rhodey. “Trying to find two hours to myself in the lab was not asking for too much.”

Pepper pops in just as the movie credits are starting to roll, and the kids somehow successfully manage to finagle her into staying longer, so that they could play some of the board games from the closet. Bruce is strangely stand offish with Pepper, which Tony finds odd. While the others are definitely enjoying her company, Bruce keeps himself mostly closed off, and Tony doesn’t miss the way Bruce angles himself between him and Pepper. Natasha surprises him, and instead of being weary of the mostly new adult, it only takes her a few minutes to become completely taken with Pepper. She intentionally places herself next to Pepper and looks to her for approval and praise whenever she makes a move in the game. Nat looks considerably more relaxed next to her, and he makes a mental note to ask Pepper to stop by more often.

Watching Pepper play and joke with the kids, Tony can’t help but smile to himself. He’d never realized how good she was with children, and although he would never admit it, the sight is beginning to fill his chest with a certain kind of warmth and... longing? He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone and flipping on the camera. He aims at the group gathered around the coffee table and snaps several pictures. Just as he’s about to sneak a fifth one, his screen changes as the phone begins to buzz with an incoming call. He stares at it.

“Sir. It’s Peter Parker calling.” FRIDAY speaks through his voice.

“Yeah, Fri, I know.” He says and presses the decline button on his call for the umpteenth time. The warm feeling in his chest is gone, leaving only a heavy sense of guilt. It’s better this way, he tells himself.

* * *

The air nips at Tony’s bare arms as he fiddles with his glasses, tiny screws and bolts on the table next to him as he connects two more wires of FRIDAY’s mainframe into the nose bridge. They’d put the kids to bed several hours ago, and he’d taken the chance to sit outside and take some breaths. He’d forgotten how draining children are.

Something moves in his peripheral vision. He twists around quickly, not giving whoever it is sneaking up on him any time to hide, and then thanks god he hadn’t raised a gauntlet in warning before looking.

It’s Natasha.

She’s dressed in her pajamas- a pair of loose black shorts and a black spaghetti strap tank top, but it’s clear she hasn’t been sleeping. The bags under her eyes have grown, if possible. She’s staring at him, her mouth tight and face hard.

“Hey, Nat. What time is it?” He answers his own question this a quick glance to his watch. Almost three am. She should not be awake. “Did you need something, Squirt?”

She shakes her head, a tiny movement barely even detectable if you weren’t watching for it. But she doesn’t say anything, just continues staring at him taking measured breaths. Her right-hand hangs by her side, and he doesn’t miss the way she is squeezing her thumb in a fist.

She seems to be frozen under his attention, so he turns back to his glasses, hoping the lack of eyes on her would allow her to gather herself enough to tell him what she wanted. It does, and she takes several steps closer to him.

She pauses. Takes some more breathes. Steps closer.

She’s close enough now. Slowly, she chews her bottom lip as she lifts herself up onto the bench, next to Tony. So close, in fact, her arm is pressed against his. She still hasn’t taken her wide eyes off him. He frowns slightly at her behavior. This is weird, even for the mini assassin. Maybe she had a nightmare, and didn’t know how to ask for comfort?

“Are you okay?” He asks, sneaking a glance down at her. She’s looking up at him through her eyelashes, and there’s something in her face that he can’t quite place, but it sets him on edge.

“I waited for you.” She whispers.

“I- what?” He racks his brain for a second, before remembering the first night at the tower with the kids, when she had waited for him or Rhodey to come lock her to the bed. “Oh. Remember Nat, we said no handcuffs here. We meant that.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything to that, and Tony doesn’t push it, but he gets the feeling his answer wasn’t satisfied to her. But he can’t think of anything else she could possibly be talking about.

Natasha sucks in a breath, and he’s about to ask again but she is suddenly crowding into him, pushing under one of his arms and climbing into his lap. She slips one of her legs over both of his so she can straddle him while she faces him. There are a few tears running down her checks that he swears weren’t there before.

“Natalia, what—”

She drops her head onto his chest as if she’s hiding her face, but then she’s nuzzling into the crook of his neck and there are tiny hands on him, one his chest and one slipping into his pants waistband and-

Tony lets out a strangled noise of protest, words failing him as flight instinct takes over and he shots up. Natasha tumbles out of his lap in his rush to get away. She hits the ground on her back, only just managing to catch herself with a skinny arm thrown behind herself. She flinches away from him, as if she’s expecting some kind of blow to come.

Tony takes several hurried steps back, pressing himself against the wall behind him, away from the girl. “What the hell. What the fuck. What the _fuck_ ,” It’s the only thing he can think, his brain refusing to work properly as his thoughts race. He can barley hear himself over the pounding of his heart and the blood rushing in his ears.

He doesn’t have time to collect himself though, because Natasha is moving towards him again, but this time she’s on her goddamn knees and while he is stuck repeating cusses, she is repeating her own mantra. It’s mostly Russian, but there’s English mixed in as well. He can just barely make out desperate apologies and frantic promises to do better.

Tony can hardly look at her as he reaches down and grabs the top of her arm, jerking her to her feet and out of that sickening position. He holds her away from him, and he knows he’s probably being too rough with her, not handling this whole situation correctly, but none of his doctorate classes ever told him how to deal with your adult teammate turned child coming onto you.

She’s hyperventilating, and he thinks he might be as well, but she has a small trickle of blood running from her nose where she was knocked against his knees when he stood and she fell, and she is still watching with wide, terrified eyes but is letting him move her pliantly.

He rips his hand off her arm as if it was burning him. He switches it for leaving it up in between them, palm out. “No.” He chokes out. “ _No.”_

Natasha furrows her brows, shakes her head as if she doesn’t understand.

“We don’t- You can’t—” He doesn’t know how to do this. He doesn’t know the right words to say, or the right actions or response. “Why?” Is the genius response.

Natasha is staring at him like he’s grown two heads. “You were taking too long!” She exclaims. “I stayed awake last night and tonight waiting for you! You never came and I do not like the waiting.” Then quieter, she adds. “Can we please just get over with?”

“I. No.” He repeats. “We are not doing that. Ever. That is—” Disgusting. Horrifying. Nauseating. He can think of dozens of words it is. But he knows she wouldn’t understand. Or worse, would think he is calling her those things. “You don’t have to do that, Natalia.”

“Yes, I do!” She explodes. Her eyes are filling with moisture again, as if she is about to burst into tears a second time. “I don’t understand what… game you are playing?”

“Nat, I’m not—”

“I just was trying to show you how thankful I am. But I made you angry?”

“You didn’t make me angry, Natalia. I just—”

She’s not having it. “Why am I here?” She stomps her foot, and continues. “—You took us from the eyepatch man to bring us here. You give us food whenever we are hungry. You call me those… other names. And you bought for us so much from the shops. And you said no fighting here so then why am I here other than too—”

“Tony?”

Tony’s shoulders sag with relief. He has never been so happy to see Pepper before in his life. She calls his name again as she steps over the small ledge and onto the balcony. She glances between to the two of them, eyes taking in Natasha’s tears and bloody nose paired with Tony’s face of shocked horror. “Uh…What’s going on?”

Natasha takes a step back, away from Tony and tries to school her features into something more neutral. She keeps her eyes locked on him though, waiting to see what exactly he was going to do or say with in the introduction of a new person.

Tony straightens up, rubs a hand over his face in an attempt to gather himself, find some kind of way to explain this without sounding completely insane. There isn’t a way though, and he sends a helpless look to Pepper.

She gets the point, and switches her attention, crouching down. “Nat, why don’t we go inside and get a tissue for your nose? I bet you’re kind of cold out there as well in just your pajamas, hm?”

Natasha peruses her lips for a second, staring at Pepper’s outstretched hand for a moment before moving closer to Pepper. With Natasha no longer so close to him, it’s easier to breathe again. Pepper gets the point and retracts her hand in favor of gently placing it on the back of one of Natasha’s shoulders and steering her inside.

Tony collapses back into his chair, head clutched in his hands as he tries to even out his breathing. It doesn’t work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments mean the absolute world to me, so please feel free to leave some! Anything from just a random keyboard smash to any scenes you would like to see/suggestions, they're all welcome! 
> 
> Or come say hi and chat with me at @Natasha-Romanoff-Deserved-Better.tumblr.com !


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 is here! 
> 
> I hope everyone is safe from the winter storm that hit so many places this week! 
> 
> Thank you so much to @quietlyimplode (on tumblr and AO3) for proof reading, brainstorming with me, and also keeping me sane/distracting me while being snowed in for eight days straight during the crisis in Texas!

It’s twenty minutes before Pepper finds Tony again, not having moved from his spot on the balcony.

“She’s sleeping,” She says as she sits down next to Tony. “Or, pretending to sleep. I don’t actually know. What the hell happened?”

Tony doesn’t look at her, just keeps his head in his hands. “What the actual goddamn hell, Pep. I- She’s like six? _What the fuck_ were the fucking Russians doing to those kids?”

“What happened, Tony?” Pepper repeats. Tony opens his mouth, but the words don’t come. The thought of repeating anything from the last five minutes churn his stomach. Instead, he grabs his glasses off the table, clicks a few bolts back into place to reconnect FRIDAY.

“FRI, play footage from balcony.”

She does, popping up a small hologram video player, footage from the security camera nestled above playing from the moment Natasha steps out onto the balcony. He doesn’t watch- can’t watch. At the sound of Natasha’s small voice, he scrunches his face tight, as if he could block it out completely.

Eventually, he hears Pepper’s voice come into the equation, and he shuts down the video. He doesn’t want to listen to any more of that than what he has too. Pepper is sitting there, stock still. To anyone else looking in, she might have looked calm. But Tony can pick up on the slight downturn of her lips, her tightly clenched jaw, her nostrils flared minutely. And Tony knows from experience- Pepper like this is one of the scariest versions.

He drops his head again, thoughts racing, “How fucking long has she been thinking like that? Has she just been walking around here waiting for me to attack her at any given moment? Fucking hell.”

“Tony. You know that’s not what she’s thinking.”

“It sounded pretty fucking clear to me, Pep.” He’s fuming. He knows he should stop cussing and snapping at her. This isn’t her fault, and he doesn’t know what he would do if she wasn’t here with him. But the emotions spilling out of him are consuming any logical part of his brain. He runs his hands over his face again, as if he could wipe away his memory of this all.

“She’s a confused child. She’s probably never had any kind interactions with adults before, especially adult males. Buying her all those clothes and all the food. I’m not surprised she thought she had to repay it somehow. I can guarantee things don’t come free in the Red Room.”

“She thinks I’m one of those monsters.”

“No. It has nothing to do with you personally and everything to do with her conditioning. It’s just… It’s just her world view. She doesn’t know anything different.”

He knows she’s right, but it doesn’t make the situation any easier. He takes a shaky breath in, and Pepper moves closer, places a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. We’re going to be okay. We’ll talk to her. She’ll learn. And maybe we should start looking into having a therapist to come talk to…. Well. All of them, I guess.”

Tony nods. “Yeah, therapy. Yeah. That would be good… Do you think we need to worry about her being around the boys too?”

Pepper thinks for a moment, considers it before shaking her head. “Probably not. She’s used to other kids her age.”

“Thank god for small comforts, I guess.” 

“And Tony?”

“Yes?”

“When this is over, you better make sure Every. Single. Adult. from the Red Room is dead.”

He lets out a huff. “Trust me, it’s already on the list.”

Tony doesn’t sleep that night. His mind never slows. It cycles through horrible scenarios playing out in a faraway Russian compound, little moments and gestures he had caught from adult Natasha that are all suddenly starting to make sense. 

* * *

It’s only two hours after breakfast the next morning and the kids have already gone insane. No one will sit still, or even focus on one thing for more than ten minutes. He knew kids had short attention spans, but he hadn’t realized just how short they were. Natasha, for the most part, is acting as if nothing happened the night before, although it’s impossible for him to miss the way she always makes sure she is at least an arm length away from him. He’s never been more aware of his own body before, constantly worried about how his movements and gestures are going to be perceived.

“Okay,” Rhodey says, dropping a bottle of sunscreen on the counter. “C’mon. We’re taking them to the park down the road before someone accidently gets blown up.”

Tony doesn’t argue, just grabs the bottle and nods, desperate for any sort of reprieve from the wild children. The two work together to gather all six- making sure everyone had shoes on, that they were at least slightly presentable, and that no one had any spare Stark tech pieces stuffed into hidden pockets.

The car ride goes better than the ride to the mall, all the kids finally have decided and settled into which seat they liked best. They all run off in different directions as soon they’re released from the car, with Bucky, Steve, and Sam running towards the trees while Clint, Bruce, and Natasha head towards the playscape. He and Rhodey choose a bench where they have a pretty decent view of the park as they thank the gods there aren’t hardly any other kids there yet, other than two younger girls playing on the other side of the playscape with someone who looks old enough to be their grandmother. He hasn’t been sitting down for more than fifteen minutes when Bucky comes running up to them, out of breath.

“Steve and Sam are stuck in the tree!” He points towards one of the taller trees, where Tony can see two small figures near the top branches.

Tony holds in a groan and forces himself back up. “Why are they even up so high?” He questions.

“They were having a contest to see who could get the highest.”

Somehow, he isn’t surprised in the slightest.

“Bucky!” A voice whines from above them. “I told you we were fine and to not get someone!”

“Last time you said you didn’t need an adult you had to go to the hospital for two days.” Bucky deadpans. Steve narrows his eyes at him.

“Guys- it doesn’t matter right now, okay? It’s fine. Sam, put your right foot on that branch right below you.”

“This one?”

“No no, your other right. And Steve, see that branch next to you? Climb onto that one and the one below that one will hold you.”

He spends the next several moments guiding them down the tree, as well as preventing a certain Clint Barton from climbing up as well to “help.” As soon as Sam’s feet hit the ground, he has grabbed ahold of Tony’s hand and starts trying to pull him towards the play structure.

“C’mon, Tony! Come play with us!”

Tony tries to take his hand back, stuttering out excuses, but Sam doesn’t give up. In fact, Steve joins in as well. “Do the monkey bars!”

For someone who spent a good amount of his life literally flying around, the money bars were crossing a line. “I don’t know how to do those,” he lies, “Why don’t you two show me and teach me how first?”

“Okay!” Sam drags Steve up the stairs and to the first bar. “Look! This is what you do first!” Sam reaches out and grips the first bar, then swings himself off the platform. Clint, who had been watching the scene from nearby, runs over to join, causing Bruce and Natasha to follow.

“Or you can do it like this!” Clint exclaims, and proceeds to complete the set with much more flamboyancy. Tony takes several steps back, removing himself from the forefront of the kids minds and allowing them to continue to play and show off their skills amongst themselves, and sneaks back to the bench to join Rhodey.

“Next time my niece’s kitten gets stuck in a tree I know just who to call.”

“Shut it.”

They make a silent deal to try and prolong the outside time for as long as possible, neither of them wanting to deal with the absurd amounts of energy while stuck inside. It works- the hours fly by, the kids not even noticing the time passing as they’re fully engaged in a game of pirates. Natasha and Bruce hang back from the game for the most part, Natasha not quite understanding the premise of imaginary play and Bruce looking slightly uncomfortable with it, but they’re both content to watch and cheer on the others.

On hour three, a small food truck sets up shop in the parking lot, and Tony takes the chance while he can. “Hey guys!” He calls to them. “Who’s hungry?”

A chorus of loud “me!”s ring out, and they all clamber down from the structure to Tony.

The truck only has a few choices for food, but even that turns in to a bigger deal than it needs to be.

“I want a pretzel!”

“Me too!”

“I want the ice cream!”

“Wait! Never mind, I want the ice cream too!”

“I want _both!”_

“Well I want the nachos!”

“Nachos are gross!”

“They’re better than pretzels!”

“Nu uh!”

It’s been too long since he last had a drink.

“Okay!” Tony cuts in, separating Sam and Bucky before they start a throw down over concession snacks. “They’re both good, yeah? Just tell me what you want to eat- it doesn’t matter what someone else is getting.”

After only a small amount of more pointers, he gets all their orders, making sure everyone got at least some sort of solid food in addition to the ice cream he orders for them all. Natasha refuses any of it, but he buys a small pretzel for her anyways to hold on too, just in case she gave in to the hunger later.

The food seems to reenergize them, and the moment they finish eating, they’re back on the playground for two more hours, this time enraptured by the jungle gym dome. He stares at it for a moment, a faint memory of scolding a soaking wet teenager on that same gym just several years earlier. When things were still okay between them- before he had gotten overly confident in Peter’s abilities and fucked everything up.

It’s nearly 4pm by the time the kids start fading, their runs devolving into slow walking and excited shouts into soft conversation. Getting them home from the park is significantly easier than it was getting them too it, with their energy levels too drained for any protests.

Back at the tower, he corrals them into all sitting on the couch, and pays for an on-demand kids movie. Just as he is putting on the movie, Pepper peaks her head into the room, gesturing for Tony. He pockets the TV remote and bribes the kids by telling them if they sit quietly, he’ll order pizza for dinner.

“Hey Pep,” He breathes out as they step into the hallway, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. She turns in to the kiss, pressing her lips to his for a moment before pulling away and switching back into business mode.

“So, I spoke with SHEILD. They’re going to find and send out one of their therapists tomorrow. Dr. Sandra Mayes. She’s apparently the best child therapist they have.”

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know SHEILD employed child therapists.”

Pepper isn’t impressed. “Of course they do. They’re mainly used for helping children recovered during missions until SHEILD can transfer them somewhere else.”

Tony reluctantly agrees. It makes sense. “Okay, good. They say anything else?”

Pepper shrugs. “Not too much of importance. The cleanup and recon crews have recovered what they believe to be all the pieces of the time stone. They’re going to do their best, but until then…” She trails off. “They’re hoping though, now with base gone it will be easier to locate Strange.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re all having a horrible time with this.” He says sarcastically, ignoring Pepper’s disapproving look.

“Tony. You’re doing great with them.” She reassures. It’s his turn to give her a look now, one mixed with exhaustion and disbelief.

* * *

The teenager wiggles himself through the window, letting out a quiet cruse when his backpack gets stuck on a latch. He rips it free, and tumbles to the floor before popping back up.

“Mr. Stark?” he calls out, peaking around the penthouse. It’s empty though, and suspiciously clean for his mentor.

“Friday? Is Mr. Stark not here?”

“Boss is here, Peter. He and the rest of the team members are on the common guest floor.”

Peter raises an eyebrow for a moment and then shrugs, turning to head towards the elevator.

He stops.

In front of him, stands a young blond boy who couldn’t be older than nine. He has his face scrunched up- eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a frown in clear distaste.

“Wha- where did you come from?” Peter sputters. He knows there was no one in the room a moment ago when he first entered.

The boy shrugs. “The vents.” He says as casually as ever. It really only brings up more questions than answers.

“Um…does Mr. Stark know you’re here?”

“Yes. Does he know _you’re_ here?” The boy counters.

“…No?”

The boy’s face hardens. “Why are you here, then?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Uh,” He isn’t sure exactly what to say, doesn’t exactly know how to explain to this random child that Tony Stark was his mentor who was currently ignoring him which forced him to sneak in through the window. “I’m a good friend of Mr. Stark’s and I need to talk to him. Like, badly.”

It’s clear to see the boy isn’t convinced, so Peter tries a different tactic. “Hey, FRI?” He calls to the ceiling, hoping this kid knew who (what?) Friday was enough to at least trust her. “Is it true that me and Mr. Stark are good friends?”

“Peter Parker and Mr. Stark are extremely close, yes.”

The kid’s posture loosens, the protective barrier beginning to fall slightly.

“See? We’re real close. Can you show me where Mr. Stark is so I can talk to him, please?”

The blond chews on his lip for a moment while he internally debates. “Only if you promise not to tell him I was in the vents or up here.”

“Deal!” Peter laughs, and the boy seems to lighten up at the sound. He follows the kid into the elevator, where he pushes the correct button. “So, what’s your name?”

“Clint.”

“Oh!” Peter’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you named after him? That’s really cool! You even look like him.”

Clint looks up at him like he’s insane. “Who?”

“Haw—" The doors to the elevator open, and he is cut off by other loud voices coming from the room. He frowns and steps out of the elevator into the common room. “What the fuck.”

The room is overrun by a small group of kids, all around similar ages to the one next to him. There another blond boy, albeit shorter and much skinnier who is sitting on the floor across from a child with choppy black hair. Between the two of them sit a board game with multiple colorful pieces that two are arguing animatedly about. There’s a second boy with black hair who is wearing glasses sitting nearby them. He has a thick book opened in his lap, but it appears to have been forgotten as his interest is captured by the game. On the wall across the room, there’s a red head girl, who is upside down as she holds a handstand. Another boy, this one dark skinned, is next to her, counting out loud. He’s on second 325.

The room quietens as soon as they notice him as they all stop their activities to turn and stare. Peter stares back, equally as shocked. It was one thing to see a gaggle of children on a private floor of the tower spread out as if they lived there, but there was something off about these children as well. Something not right. Familiar? He takes in each kid, staring at their faces for a moment as his anxiety grows about the wrongness of this situation.

“Who are you?” The smaller blond asks, standing up so he can put his hands on his hips in an attempt to appear intimidated. His friend rolls his eyes and reaches over to grab his wrist and yank him back down to the floor.

“Chill, Steve. FRIDAY wouldn’t have let him in if he was a bad guy. Right?” his friend looks over to Peter for confirmation, but he is too busy googling the blond to respond. Clint. Steve.

“What—”

“Allllllright!” Mr. Stark rounds the corner into the common room, holding several boxes of pizza. “I’ve got the” His eyes land on Peter. “…food.”

Tony lets out a curse to himself and haphazardly discards the pizza boxes on the counter next to him. He moves quickly towards Peter, grabs his arm, and tugs him through the common area and into the hallway, away from the group of kids.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony whisper yells.

“Why is there a group of children in the living room?”

“I asked you first.”

“My question is more important!”

“Peter,” Tony pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I really don’t have the time to explain this to you right now.”

“Well maybe you would have had time to explain earlier had you answered one of my calls the last few weeks.”

There’s a thud from the living room, accompanied by a short yelp, and then a hurried “I’m fine!”

Peter gives Tony a pointed look.

Tony sighs. “Fine. You want to know so badly? That’s the team in there. That’s Sam and Steve and Bucky and Bruce and Nat and Clint and they’re all six years old after some HYDRA goon blew up the time stone that they stole.”

Peter wants to argue, say it that was impossible and wait for Tony to say it was a joke and they were just kids of someone visiting the tower for the night. But in a way, he already knew. Just from his conversation with Clint, from seeing the way the other kids were interacting and acting. It couldn’t have been anyone else.

Tony waits for a bad reaction. None come. “Well?”

Peter shrugs. “I mean. I guess it’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. I am basically half spider, after all.”

Tony really shouldn’t be surprised by this kid anymore.

“Why are you ignoring my calls?” Peter asks, his voice going softer as he avoids eye contact. 

“I—” Tony starts. He knows Peter isn’t going to understand, no matter what he says, but tries anyways. “Kid. I’m just trying to protect you, okay? You got hurt because I dragged you into a fight you had no business being in. I was reckless with you. And you deserve better.”

“Isn’t that my own choice? To decide what I deserve and who is in my life? You don’t get to just ignore me like that.”

Tony doesn’t have a response. The kid is right, he knows this. He also knows this is the same kid who ran around New York in a pajama onesie to fight crime and well his intentions are always good, Peter is not the best at thinking plans through.

Luckily, he doesn’t need a response, because another thud comes from the living room, this one louder, and a moment later, a cry sounding suspiciously like Sam.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony says to himself as he rolls his eyes, hoping him and Bucky weren’t fighting again. “Listen, kid. I have to deal with them, okay? We’re nowhere near done talking about this but you’re welcome to stay and hang out if you really want too. Just _please_ do not tell them who they actually are, okay? We’re trying to not fuck them up any more than they already are.

Peter’s face lights up, and he nods eagerly. “I love kids!” He says.

Tony snorts. “Yeah, well, you haven’t had to deal with these ones yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments mean the absolute world to me, so please feel free to leave some! Anything from just a random keyboard smash to any scenes you would like to see/suggestions, they're all welcome!
> 
> Or come say hi and chat with me at @Natasha-Romanoff-Deserved-Better.tumblr.com !


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